Completely unaware of the electrical impulses she was made up of

She sat in her broken chair

Firing like an uninterrupted 30 foot piston powered endlessly

Catalyzing it’s own velocity exponentially through friction

This piston generated an intertwined stream of physiological and psychological need

This need pulled together various and necessary components to complete a thought in her head

Said thought needed a place to go and was running out of time

Said thought alerted the troops, established an objective, built a strategy

Strategy was the foundation of the very necessary action

The total synergy of the full process supercharged muscle groups

She lifted her arms, eyes gazing at the screen as if it were a clean slate

Her index finger on the “F”

Her other index finger on the “J”

Everyone else fell into place

She began to fuse the organic process

It’s causes, it’s effects, with the rest of us

Trying to find the exit

Tags: 47, chair, forty seven, keyboard, keystrokes, poetry, rich harris, short story, typing