Sleep Walk

This isn't interesting.  These thoughts evoke the equivalent of a blank TV screen.  Cue the marching band.

Detached culture absently follows to the school, to the ballpark, to the store, to the office, to the shower, to the house, and all over again, tomorrow.  Time exists for nothing, except the kind of nothing that makes time for itself.   Puzzle pieces haphazardly lay strewn about.  Everybody says the puzzle looks right.

Horn call.  Snare roll.  Out steps the emperor, sans a stitch.

Isn't that a lovely suit of clothes?