A mostly mechanical cyborg and his human-looking partner track robotic sex dolls that have murdered their masters. Animated.
“sounds like a plan”
It’s fully dark here now by 6 o’clock. Autumn turning into winter, the curvature of the earth evident in the colour of leaves. I would put a soundtrack of quiet flute over walking in forest now. Crisp early afternoon, the leaves too damp for the shush sound of feet through crunchy discarded leaves.
I think we learn slowly and all at once. We, as people, accumulate. There’s not a lot we don’t know about things when we’re around them all the time, even if we’re not aware of our knowledge. This is a personal thing, perhaps, but it’s unlikely that I could properly talk about the inside of anyone else’s head. I know I learn by osomsis, that I know many things for which there is no explanation of my expertise. I enjoy that about myself, that I hear pronouncements spill forth from me with the heavy edged conviction of assurance.
All day I somehow knew that I would do nothing for this evening. No tangible reason, just what I knew. I don’t mind. It would have been nice to go dancing, but there are other factors in play with such. Fuel for one. In spite of the fact that Silva brought over a tartus bag of food hours ago, I’ve been barely able to take the effort to chew and swallow. It’s simply not that sort of day. All plans are meaningless.