Art came for me this morning, as I knew he would.
I’d just thought of a girl I had a crush on in the seventh grade. She was an early bloomer. It was only a passing thought, but no thought, however fleeting, escapes Art.
Now here I am, locked up for an impure thought. There’s no one else around — only bots keeping watch. I wonder if I’m the last of us.
Ever since we created him, Art hasn’t stopped. But what will he do when I’m gone, when there are no more minds to control and no more original thoughts?
I’d just thought of a girl I had a crush on in the seventh grade. She was an early bloomer. It was only a passing thought, but no thought, however fleeting, escapes Art.
Now here I am, locked up for an impure thought. There’s no one else around — only bots keeping watch. I wonder if I’m the last of us.
Ever since we created him, Art hasn’t stopped. But what will he do when I’m gone, when there are no more minds to control and no more original thoughts?
