A-Z: walking along the front

A challenge was given out in my writers group: write a story that is 26 sentences, with each sentence starting with the next letter of the alphabet.
This was my attempt while walking along the front Saturday afternoon. I made it in time for a little Christmas shopping, after hearing the announcement of further lockdown restrictions.
Couldn't manage a narrative but I want to share what I wrote all the same:

Abject horizons rise up. Built up: too many of everything. Capitalism's pattern has wrought disaster. Damnation comes yet slow. Egos after all outnumber the ready witnesses of death (enough to distract fools). Fools are the countless millions and within their number are we ourselves. 

Horizons rise up in such a way as to draw the eye. Inside any building around here the lights are on. Just beyond, unseen but by any who are outdoors, and stood in the right spot, the sky is lit up bronze orange: eternal fruit.

Kilowatts and megawatts and constant electric destruction: all these are rife here as anywhere for thousands of miles around - barring the dark sea that stretches beyond that orange vista.

Love still exists beyond, and within, such horizons. Most find it. Nothing's really to fear in life but life itself. Otherwise, if you can keep fear from your mind, well, it's good. Perspective is everything.

Queens can be captured and pawns become queens. Royal blood is the same as non-royal blood. Some things in life are just what they appear to be. Terrible dreams aside, and those are for sleeping minds alone and, again, can be forgot, there is, when you strip it back, existence for all, regardless of rank.

Universal love may come strange: especially if you allow yourself the lie - 'everyone else is at fault'. Violence is never the answer. Winning is just winning: don't run it in or waste you life seeking only wins. Xylophones, pianos, stringed instruments generally and the chiffonie will, regardless, all play in your wake.

You alone know yourself. Zebras cross the plains.