A plastic bag we never saw before flew.
It was high in the air.
Is it a new kind? One muttered through an excited expression.
It’s pure white. It must have never got mixed up.
Never got dropped on the floor, never got stuck in a tree. Maybe it’s nowhere.
Also with no use. One chimes in too.
It’s excited. One praised. Also with no lineage. Also with no resistance. Look, look. Look at the fluttering.
It must be tired. With a pitiful expression, one shook their head.
With no use. Also without rolling. Also without getting hung up. Wandering heaven, roaming around… Flying around, tearing up… It felt like it wanted a reunion after losing its way.
Maybe it’s something indigenous that went extinct. With a cautious expression one was lost in thought.
The wind changed.
We heard a sound.
Shall we have a listen? One shut their eyes.
Okay, let’s give it a try.
We lay in a landfill. Okay, let’s give it a go. We lie in our arms like they are pillows and close our eyes together.
We open our ears together.
Rustling Polystyrene
Polyethylene
Polypropylene Polytetrafluoroethylene
Methylene chloro
Chlororo
Trichlorophenol. Dichlorodiphenyltrichlororororo
I see.
We were delighted. We had no wrinkles. We were on cloud 9.
The sky was clear.
