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<!DOCTYPE html>
<!-- AUTOCENTO OF THE BREAKFAST TABLE -->
<!-- vim: fdm=indent
-->
<html lang="en">
<head>
    <meta charset="utf-8">
    <meta name="generator" content="pandoc">
    <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0, user-scalable=yes">
    <meta name="author" content="Case Duckworth">

    <title>Ex machina | Autocento of the breakfast table</title>
    <link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="trunk/favico.png" />

    <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="style.css">
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    </head>
<body id="ex-machina" class="autocento">
    

    <article class="container">
        <header>
            <!-- title -->
            <h1 class="title">Ex machina</h1>
            

            <div class="header-extra">
                
                                    <!-- epigraph -->
                    <div class="epigraph">
                                            <a href="http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2013/08/sugar/cohen-text">with lines from National Geographic</a>
                    
                                        </div>
                            </div>
        </header>

        
        <section class="content verse">
            <p>Bottom of the drink: they had<br />to go. The Coke machine, the snack<br />machine, the deep fryer. Hoisted</p>
            <p>and dragged through the halls<br />and out to the curb, they sat with<br />other trash beneath gray, forlorn</p>
            <p>skies behind the elementary<br />school, wondering what their next<br />move would be. The Coke machine</p>
            <p>had always wanted to live<br />the life of a <a href="prelude.html">hobo</a>, jumping trains,<br />eating from garbage, making fire</p>
            <p>in old oil drums. It had some<br />strange romantic notions of being homeless,<br />is what the deep fryer thought.</p>
            <p>Its opinion was to head to court,<br />sue the bastards at the school for early<br />termination of contract. It was</p>
            <p>the embodiment of <a href="table_contents.html">justifiable anger</a>.<br />It believed privately that it was an incarnation<br />of Nemesis, the goddess of divine</p>
            <p>retribution. What the snack machine<br />thought, it kept to itself, but it did say<br />that <a href="no-nothing.html">nothing ever ends</a>. The others</p>
            <p>were confused, then angry, but finally<br />understood, or thought they did. The snack<br />machine’s candy melted in the sun.</p>
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