The Compound Eye

by johannespunkt

Step into riot gear and turn on the compound eye. Advance. Look down at your feet to know where you are, look forward to see what the rest of them see. Move like one being through the crowd, strike precisely. Advance. But it was someone else, you were looking at someone else’s feed when the boot crushed that larynx. Act on instinct, spray capsicum like a frightened skunk. Advance. Feel good. Advance. Have a secret betting pool with the others. Every night, you trade serial numbers, making identification useless. Everyone vouches for everyone. This is anonymity, not those Catholic masks.

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