Morphing to Barcodes in the Scavenger's Eye

1. What are dogs sighing about?
2. What does disappointment taste like?
3. Paint a black and white movie screen into your writing.

Her ripe fingers twitched at the sticky knob, muttering to herself as she watched the past flicker by at her touch. Fresh, digital black ink. September 28: "Witness: Teen facing police when fatally shot." A life, it's entire climax, the terror, the unsatisfied surrender, found here in 3 printed columns, hastily written by a journalist. He leans back in his chair, black and white himself, a imported Bolivar cigar burning from the side of his mouth. 9-5 worn eyes roll, desperate for a hook, a eye-catching title. Readers mean a happy boss. A lost life, is a business challenge. Every. Word. Means. Money.

The woman pulls her hand away from the knob to push her glasses up a flat, oily nose, and has seen all she needs to see. A coal finger mashes the archaic button and months, of comics, of sports, of dead, of opportunities, taken or lost, jet by in a stream of blinding black and white, morphing to barcodes in the scavenger's eye. Did you get what you wanted?