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The robots, on the other hand, acted like a bunch of youthful dreams and got thoroughly crushed.
Everyone took a turn driving except me. Which was completely unfair. Just because of that one time. Well, and that other time. And the one with the mailbox, but seriously, who remembered that anymore?
To me, comfort was intrinsically tied to something the Epics had created.
They stand out, like a burp during a prayer.
There was still something human inside Jonathan Phaedrus.
“I would watch the sun rise, and wish I could capture the moment. I never could. Pictures didn’t work—the sunrises never looked as spectacular on film. And eventually I realized, a sunrise isn’t a moment. It’s an event. You can’t capture a sunrise because it changes constantly—between eyeblinks the sun moves, the clouds swirl. It’s continually something new. “We’re not moments, Megan, you and me. We’re events. You say you might not be the same person you were a year ago? Well, who is? I’m sure not. We change, like swirling clouds and a rising sun. The cells in me have died, and new ones were
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His face was so pinched, he looked like he’d been drinking a lemon-juice-and-pickle smoothie.
A string of lightbulbs hung along the ceiling, revealing absurdly beautiful waves of red salt shot through the otherwise black and grey walls. It looked like a pigeon on fire.
Instead, I was treated to the sight of forty-seven messages of Knighthawk saying things like Hey or Yo or Hey, you. Idiot. I quickly messaged him. Is something wrong? Your didgeridooing face, the message came back.
There are more than a few cities like Newcago, where the ruling Epics are clever enough to realize that a population with mobiles is a population they can propagandize and control. I can tell you, the poor are just as bad. Except their pets are mangier.
So long as you promise to record yourself the next time you say something stupid. Damn, I miss the internet. You could always find people doing stupid stuff on the internet.
“Why not? Seems like you’re pretty good at making things up.” He pointed at me. “I’ve punched men for wisecracks like that.” He paused. “Of course, most were Scots.” “Your own kind?” I asked. “Why would you fight other Scots?” “Lad, you don’t know much about us, do you?”
Said he’d rather get cussed out by someone who meant it than be smiled at by someone who didn’t.”
the lanky Southerner was cuddled into the hole like a joey in its mother’s pouch—though people really shouldn’t let baby kangaroos play with a Barrett .50 cal with armor-piercing rounds.
The sunrise didn’t need to be beautiful to be beautiful.
“Divine powers don’t make you a god, I guess. They make you a bully who happens to have the biggest gun.”
