text | un: m.cabrera

[naloxone]

[ turns out? space doesn't give a single fuck about your circadian rhythm. or maybe insomnia is just that attached to her that even the absence of a sun dictating her internal clock doesn't faze it, like an old friend you wish would just forget you already.

one night (?) late into the early hours (???) marta finds herself drifting out of the room she's come to assume will be hers for the indefinite future, passing through stark white walls with all the sterility of a hospital, but none of its familiar chaos.

she's still getting used to the earpiece. still getting used to hearing other people's voices in her head. she doesn't mean to add another in the void, but one of her own thoughts blares out too vividly as she stares out into an actual void: ]

—but where are the stars?

Comments

[naloxone]

That's true... I want to say there's very little I wouldn't do for my regret, but there's not much I'm capable of doing. So it's so much easier said than done.

[oiorpata]

There's been a variety of tasks and both worlds I've been to have been markedly different.

What do you do?

[naloxone]

Back home? I'm a nurse...
But I think a human nurse from 2019 would be a little out of depth here, don't you think?

[oiorpata]

People are still getting injured left and right, so maybe not as out of depth as you'd expect.

Stab wound is still a stab wound, regardless of where it happens.

[naloxone]

Even on a robot?

[oiorpata]

You could always expand your knowledge if you really wanted to.

[naloxone]

That's true... It's not like I have much else to do during these downtimes.

[oiorpata]

Not sure if it would require engineering.

What's your name?

[naloxone]

It'll be like going back to school again.

It's Marta. Sorry, I forgot to say. What's yours?

[oiorpata]

I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to skip out in that case.

Andy. Welcome aboard.