fail

On the laptop, an isometric view of a one-bedroom flat. Two figures, human in all the ways that mattered, moved between the three rooms, regarding the objects placed for them and exuding thought bubbles.

I got that when it came out,” I said. “It seemed interesting at first, but I never really got in to it though. Is that us?”

Yep. Carrie and Nathan in miniature. I don’t think that we’re exactly right-”

I’m nowhere near that thin, for example.”

Well they’re kind of idealised.”

Mine was. It had perfect posture and wore a button-up shirt. It moved from the kitchen-diner to the bathroom like doing so meant something, anything at all, like it wasn’t on some repeating cycle with a touch of randomisation to keep things interesting until new stimuli appeared. Carrie’s homunculus skittered nervously, upturning cups, taking them to the fold-out table then returning them to the drawer. It wondered aloud about the lack of food in the fridge and asked plaintively to be entertained. Carrie made it have the idea to go to the shops and get a magazine to read.

 

Available in Lighthouse Magazine issue 8, available here