strike anywheres are all but extinct.

jackie knows a secret. its a secret about a place. its a place with great trees. great trees with faces, with names. great trees with perfectly voiced opinions. its like being in a classroom full of nay sayers spitting out balanced theories on the state of gravity and its effects on small round fruit and struggling bee colonies. a wealth of knowledge from an army of thumb suckers hell bent on an endless recess. jackie walks like a ghost. astral and non committal, plotting to burn down the forest. purification by fire, the death and silence of the god damn trees with their god damn voices. fortunes and omens are just a hairs breadth away from rubber bands and rocket ships. angry course faces proficising the weather and the all consuming crash that follows. a fall from grace, the grace being ones and zeros with  a few points and currency signs mixed in. names become numbers and numbers turn to ash, the ash composed of atoms as indistinguishable as the next. worms of the earth fight for our remains and we become energy for the sake of decomposition. jackie is a cycle breaker, she sees a working system of heat, gas and electrons contained inside a perfectly formed environment that once initiated produces a reaction that fulfills the wishes of a chain pulling upright mammal also the work of a complex system of meat, bone, nerves and thousands of years of genetic modification. european aspen, potassium chlorate for oxidation, sulfur for combustion, glass powder to condition and animal glue to hold it all together. rub with red phosphorous and the reaction is a small yellow flame. the flame fed with oxygen and malicious intent brings the end. the end of the god damn forest. those god damn trees.