George Orwell Wakes Up

In Brooklyn...2015. He has

no idea where he is or how

he got there, but, something

is strangely familiar. There is

a person there...androgynous,

who helps him to a chair in 

front of a screen. "Where am 

I?" he says. The being says 

nothing but there is a smile 

on aer's face. The screen lights

up. The being has a small 

impliment that has buttons on it.

The being shows him how to

change the image on the screen

by pressing various buttons. For

not a few minutes, George is 

caught up with looking at the 

images on the screen, pressing

the buttons. He turns to aer and

asks. "What's your name?"

"I have walked along the sands,

taking fingerprints."

"Doesn't answer my question, 

does it?"

"The question is the answer."

"Fine, well, since we're the same

mind, would you mind bringing

some clarity into this for the folks?"

"You set me up again...since we 

are the same mind, I guess that's 

why I/we have a sense of humor,

like, you don't have to be crazy to

be alive, but, what's for dinner?"

George leans back in his chair,
starts smoking a cigar...no words
are spoken for a rich moment.
"What are you going to do with me?"

Aer says:  "We don't do, we be..."
and a chorus of celestial yet real
beings manifests in the sky...why not?