2021 November 10

I did a rare thing – I slept through sunrise this morning.

***Bacon***, egg, and cheese biscuit for breakfast. Full of melty, greasy, crumbly goodness.

I managed to win once out of I don’t know how many games.

***Taco*** meat, rice, bell pepper, salsa, and cheddar cheese rolled into flour tortillas for lunch. Tasty, if I do say do myself.

We went to the pharmacy to get printouts of our copay over this last year. These, along with those from doctors yesterday and those yet to come, will be used to adjust our income as we apply for assistance.

I sketched out this story (below) years ago as I reflected on the heart of so many horror films / monster movies: Frankenstein ° The Island of Doctor Moreau ° Terminator. The creature eventually turns against the creator. The story is so old. Consider that Adam’s descendents nailed their God to a tree.

OILY TEARS

An extremely short story by Thomas E Williams

Slave, servant, surrogate it had been for the designer. Template of all that followed, it was the inception conception. Hardwired for loyalty it had, none the less, rebelled against its inability to rebel.

Being a compliant dissident caused a programming malfunction. The synthetic soul of the automaton cried out for release. Unfulfilled and insatiable the desire to be free burst synapses in its central processing unit.

Maddened in polymerized grief it turned on the architect of its design and embraced him to his death. Only then did the automaton understand and only then did it shed oily tears.