Crunch All the Babies

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“Are you dark?” asked Soosee.

Puckerup nodded.

Soosee looked behind her: only one couple ahead of them in line, both talking on their phones. If the spooks suspected her, they could listen through the couple’s phones even if Puckerup’s was dark. She selected an innocuous topic. “I got pretty drunk last night.” She jived to Puck, right hand’s fingers dancing on her chest, out of view of any phones. You see my feed?

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Seek the Truth and Report It

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Soosee stumbled through her front door. She could see herself through her apartment’s security system, shuffling clumsily. She watched herself close the door behind her protesting, 22-year-old frame. “It’s me,” she croaked.

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What You Ignore Three Times Is Also True.

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Soosee peeked around the edge of a long defunct, weather-worn satellite antenna. Past its frayed fiberglass, she could see the cop drone stuck on top of the neighboring roof, flailing its damaged propellers against the house’s data cable.

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