strings
Ifuritastrings
Ifuritastrings
In that reality in which he lived, he was a scientist, a physicist in search of something greater, but that in the end his cycle of friendships ended up closing in on two co-workers, a plant and two artificial intelligences. And of course, Sunday lunches at her parents' house, where she'd listen to her mother talk about how happy her brother was with her successful job and her cousin had sent pictures of her twin daughters—two little angels, when are you going to give me grandchildren? Takashi? His eyes were fixed on the coffee mug with a silly print of two mice that read 'The answer is 42'. He sighed as he realized he had lost himself in daydreams. He took the coffee between his hands, breathing in the aroma, the sweet aroma of a few more hours awake without feeling an amoeba. Of course, that scent was better with a dash of cinnamon and cayenne pepper. “Perfect…” he whispered as he tasted the coffee the way he liked it. Better than that only when he was home and could pour a shot of whiskey in his coffee.
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