Traveling down between  parallèle  rows of  blanc  hexagons, wrong way  dent  or endless tonsils filled with germs fractally filtered from either the blood of the mouth's owner, or the food that travels down it. The waste has collected in a crystalline pattern that seems to depart into the distance, but really is only explorable by optical (rather than expeditionary) tactics..     Cet après-midi là, des machines sombres, un de ces morts du futur est arrivé.