Zhi listens, the pulse threading through dust and silence. "Trending," Ky echoes, almost a question. Zhi tilts their head. "Or remembering."
On Fri, Jan 31, 2025 at 10:43 AM AGF <a...@poemproducer.com> wrote: > Zhi's invisible ears rotate inwards > inwards where sound is muffled > the low frequency is like a pulse > trending > > On 31. Jan 2025, at 10.21, Zak Qlikman via NetBehaviour < > netbehaviour@lists.netbehaviour.org> wrote: > > Zhi emerges out of the shadow, moving slow, deliberate. S/He is dressed > in mending cloth, their face hidden behind a mask of shards of glass and > wire. > > “You’re one of them,” Ky says, their voice muffled but level. > > Zhi cocks their head, thinking. “One of what?” > > “One of the ones who watched,” s/he says, creeping a little nearer. > “Watched while everything fell apart.” > > The accusation bites deep. > > Ky wobbles, their hands clenching and unclenching. “Why have you come?” > > Zhi looks at it, its markings glinting softly in dim light. “I have come > to understand,” s/he says. “To learn what is left, and must continue.” > > Ky spits out a laugh, its sound acid. “Nothing’s left to carry. Ghosts and > ash, that’s all.” > > “Not true,” Zhi says, their eyes moving to the flower at its feet. “The > life remains, even in crevices.” > > The two stand motionless for a long, quiet interval. > <sWeAllFallDown2025-01-04 16.40.12.jpg> > Finally, Ky comes to life and talks. "If you're here to learn, then you > have to see what we saw." > > S/He offers a hand, and Zhi takes it. Hand in hand, they move deeper into > the ruins. > > And there, buried under heaps of ash and debris, stands a machine, > behemoth and sleeping, its face etched with the same inscrutable symbols > etched into their epidermis. > > The visitors watch it closely. "We made it to save us," Ky says. > > Ky touches the face of the machine, resting a hand against its metal > faceplate. > > "I see now," Zhi breathes. "The machine did not kill you, then." > > Ky shudders in their voice. "So then, then, what?" > > Zhi turns, radiating a new light in their form. "The fear of falling," > s/he says, "when you could no longer stand together." > > - > > http://thevisitors.jeron.org/ > > _______________________________________________ > NetBehaviour mailing list > NetBehaviour@lists.netbehaviour.org > https://lists.netbehaviour.org/mailman/listinfo/netbehaviour > > >
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