Geometry for Ocelots

by Exurb1a

He chatted to the sciencewoman a while until she fell asleep on the sofa. He covered her in a blanket, then fetched the champagne from the fridge. He necked a glass, necked another. He looked at himself in the mirror for a while, his eyes now developing crow’s feet with age, his teeth crooked: the decline. He took the champagne bottle down onto the street. A man was lying in the road. Leo sat down beside him and offered the champagne and they shared it a while in silence. The bivnik clock chimed in the distance. The man said, “The end is coming, you know.” “I know,” Leo said. “Everything will have been for nothing.” “I know.” “Do I recognise you?” “No.” They finished the bottle and Leo went to the 28-hour shop and brought back a pack of beer and they finished that too. A party spilled out of the bar opposite, laughing and kissing. The man threw up in the road and wiped his mouth. He said, “How do they carry on? Don’t they know it’s for nothing?” “They know,” Leo said. “You look familiar.” “I’m not. Do you have a family?” “Sure.” “You should see them more. Bodhi could spring a surprise attack anytime.” “Doesn’t matter anyhow,” the man said. “No, it doesn’t.”

This is the guy who lets you exit the sim