Metal decays and falls victim to crusty acid crystals. Down in the battery packet whether it be explosion or slow blooming decay, this corrosive substance can burn and destroy and easily disintegrate into dangerous dust. I am walking now, away from the scene of rusted metal and the Hess trucks of ages past. Childhood toys lie in wait in the attic, haunted by time yet still smiling. While we all wait and corrode here in our own way, skin exposure to oxygen and the body just slowly failing, slowing down. The inextricable tryst between holy ghost and physiology, emotions betwixt. What is this strange science experiment? Who is the leading scientist? We have no proof, we are too small to seek it, to begin to fathom the vast network at play. Happy accident seems too good to be true. And perhaps in this way I’m lost – or found, as I admit to myself that these are big questions that would not do me well to even attempt to solve. So while I think them, I remain in my seat and promise to continue going on and enjoying life. I do not wish corrosive dissonance upon myself.