Sweven

HG Images
An airplane dashboard full of blinking lights and switches
Scanning a row of different shapes and sizes of cereal boxes

HG Sound (thought the radio was playing too loud but realized I hadn't turned it on)
Waiting for a soul traaaiiin.
Waiting for a (shovel or shove of?) the moon.
Everything's gonna be heeeere.
Everything's gonna be here soon.

Fragment
In a waiting room with a mother and many children. She opens her monstrously large mouth and some children merrily walk in. What are they walking into?

Burned
Before the shell of what once was home, killdeers scream through the wilding green. We can not find their nests therefore we can not mow the mess. Aside the shell stands a concrete tube. Someone bumps it. Black liquid sloshes, slicks the siding. Someone else flicks a cigarette too near.
Ignite.
Rush into the shell of what once was home to rescue dust caked keepsakes, a family bible, a photo album, a strange spiral sculpture. "The keys are inside!" screams someone frantic. A pair of us charge the hungering flames. Gather all keys to be seen.
Escape.
And now the shell that once was home is the severest of nothing, not a scrap of foundation or flat, naked patch of earth to show where once it stood. They all spin and sing. They are stupid and free. I envy their absence of memories.

Team Robot - Spring Competition Day 2