sensed raze her head is contoured to create the illusion of silver hair startled into stillness by some unseen loop of fabric. she remembers his name and little else. she was offline for a long time. it's me, he says, and her central processing unit lights up. she sees them both as books still being written. if they can get their bodies close enough, she thinks the words weathered into their shivering shells might explain themselves. he pulls her to his chest and sighs. her tactile sensors tell her this is what it is to be held. 260909 what's it to you? who go blather from