Donovan—
This morning my cell phone nearly took my head off, so the gargoyle post continues.
The technomancers were trying to merge cyberspace and the astral plane. The one who escaped is still trying, and if he succeeds... It would be bad. Think of Stonehenge paved over with a parking lot, if Stonehenge were the collective human psyche and the parking lot were cyberspace. And cyberspace… That world brings out our worst, its anonymity breeding outrage and contempt.
What a contrast to the slow sweetness of par avion. Or in this case, par gargoyle.
But in a moment of weakness, I turned on my phone to call you, thought better of it, set it down. It exploded.
That meant the technomancer was close. We gave chase and saw his rounded shoulders and backpack whip around a corner into a video-game parlor.
Yes, those still exist. And yes, we lost him.
I’m not sure how I’ll be traveling, but after the phone incident, I won’t be taking a plane. I’m not sure if there’s any sort of tech he can’t control.
Love,
Riga
