Discernable Text

Everywhere in Blissville graffiti is scrawled. Any flat surface will do.

I know it is a language, but it's opaque to me.

Signage also abounds. I recognize the English, but its content eludes me. I can only assume others grasp its meaning, factory workers or railmen.

And then suddenly, a message I can both read and understand, and think on as I gaze out at the fading half moon.