I've been reading Dr Bloodmoney, Or How We Got Along After The Bomb again. That world or this one, I don't care which, but today I want to be in Marin County in the afternoon, where I can walk or bicycle to the coast or even drive, and stop, looking out over the bay at San Francisco, and know that I don't have to go there unless I feel like it, and that I probably don't, and will therefore find something else to do.
From the undergrowth, a viridian crab might scutter out across the chalky-white ground, a piece of green cheese held aloft in its left claw, to be followed minutes later by a dogged pursuer, wheezing mechanically from its motor and servos, casting with a long gooseneck antenna for the wake of its intended. Trundling along anyway, happily aware of the warmth of the winter sun and the sounds from the sea, if it has the capacity, and let us believe that it does...
One point on a map exchanges places with another.
A
"Good morning, and how did you find yourself this morning?"
B
"Well, I just rolled back the sheets, and there I was."
"Good morning, and how did you find yourself this morning?"
B
"Well, I just rolled back the sheets, and there I was."
