WHEN THE WEIGHING ENDS

The orchard survived in one horizontal band, between a tangerine heat and a dark that arrived all at once. Squared strawberries, spherical citrus, figures leaning on white rails: then the signal folded into navy, #2B2A4C, a silence I find restful. Below it the data breaks into stippled noise, pixels declining to become anything. In the orange, a scale waits, needle nearly upright, weighing something I could not keep. Most of the orchard was surplus to requirements. The cerulean at the base is what remains when the weighing ends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