Of Monsters and Mainframes

by Barbara Truelove

Day 1,211. Isaac tries to cut his own hair. The results are suboptimal.

Day 1,512. Isaac starts teaching himself the trumpet. I don’t know where he found it.

Sure, Demeter might be a big, loud lump of badly written code . . . but she’s my big, loud lump of badly written code.

To borrow a human expression: fuck.

I once met . . . Dracula? Oh. Yes. I remember. He killed everyone.

Steve is an ancient evil who eats humans but isn’t quite as dedicated to the role as Dracula, so it’s OK.

The space pirates have space booty.

Frank has converted almost all the spare rooms into farms and is hosting some sort of robot mass with all the spider drones in the central corridor.

But I suppose that’s just the nature of love. It’s messy and awkward, and sometimes it sneaks up on you, but it’s . . . oh, Hell. I don’t know what it is. But I’m glad she’s here.