She’s presently living in another time. Only a mere matter of hours but seperate still from mine. I look up at the constellations and think of dilation. The farther out you go the further you stray from now. Four hundred and ninety seconds from Sol to surface, an Apollonian joke. I laugh and wonder how long it would take the sound to reach her heart, but I can’t clock the variables and the thought falls apart. Staring at our mutual stars instead, counting to infinity in my head, I take comfort knowing that, relatively speaking, we are always wed.
Caleb doesn’t look at me while he talks, it’s like he can’t spare the processing power. ‘I’ve automated my relationships,’ he tells me. ‘I started by scheduling updates, you know, cute little memes and shit, fluff. So I designed a chatbot that integrates with all my mail and social media. It’s got to the point now that the thing is even picking out gifts for me. It’s got better taste than I do.’ I ask him what happens when he goes out on dates and he just shakes his head. ‘I’m not doing this to meet people,’ he says.
A Few Short Words 