Hello Grandmother,

I’ve been trying to collect a few things, make up a worthy compellation after Flux abscond with all of my things. Books are always a good thing, but finding anything rare enough to be worth reading in the mystical community is hard to do. And finding texts on the nature of robotics is frankly easier on the internet, if you know where to look. I’ve picked up a few odd statues from places. An ancient Indian sculpture of the seven sages as they road with Manu on the boat that survived the last great flood. A South American spaceship idol from their time in contact with aliens. A figure of the Mazu, the Asian sea goddess, who started out human around the later half of the tenth century, who saves those in trouble at sea.

I like having this stuff, it reminds me of the strange connections that humanity shares as a species. All of this stuff though, it doesn’t get me anywhere. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going Buddhist or anything like that. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give up material possessions. I guess what I’m saying is I miss family. I miss the connection I had with you and everyone growing up. I wouldn’t go back to those days if you paid me, I’m happy to be out of the world you raised me in, but I miss what we had together. I miss the quiet days together. Now all the quiet days seem to be just me and my statues. The saddest part is that even though I’m almost certain you’re reading this, I know you don’t even know what I’m talking about. I miss you grandma. And if everything I’m afraid of comes to pass, maybe someday you’ll know why.

-1159

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