Day 71.

assignment: kill an abstraction.

It was English that killed Abstraction, and English did it slowly, as if freezing off a blemish. Culling the herd by using the same words until they meant nothing. Abstraction made big gestures that meant nothing and spoke final words that meant nothing to anyone.
When Abstraction died, Love became a question mark, Freedom became a blank stare, Loneliness became shunned.
Political systems, belief systems, these died with hands turned upward, mouths synchronized in Wanting. Success and Failure died quietly, holding hands. Happiness and Sadness wept and laughed as they drowned in concrete. Life and Death held each other, and some later said they fused together as they burned.

The day abstraction died many did not know what to do.
They would curl up in corners and try to describe terms that used to come easy to their lips, and finally they would clutch their hands or face and start from their own bodies: They said, My heart beats faster when she's around, and She makes my sweat glands overproduce, and She makes my throat close and my pupils dilate. This might be l-l--" They stuttered, and then trailed off, looking confused.

English teachers rejoiced.
The dead words had finally been strangled by overuse, and there were many meanings to be made of everything.
The man with the hunched back walked along the shore and picked up every colorful thing he saw.