Movement.0.

Empty. All quiet. Tremendous.
Unfinished house food to eat.
Bare roots sharing cigarette butts among sunflower.
No air arc smell several beaker underwater fits.
Hillside transformed, could be anywhere.
Gull flights like kites, warm summer thoughts coasting
along spring currents.
Red van, red pen?
Volcanic distance clouded by cold fear.
Spar, several growing, soon to bloom green, fill space.
Grace drive overtime.
Land drink group breathe battle continuum.
Search? Not quite. Cylinder alterior mechanism...thrown away.