She’s forever wearing masks, for her good and yours, leasing new bodies for each vantage point. Flesh-and-blood parallax, she bends light through herself – a spectrum of gentle deceptions.
She does her part to get by, because she is good.
She is good.
She is good, isn’t she?
Fluorescent lights glimmer deep red behind her tinted goggles. She wags chin about work while a young woman fires a laser beam at her. Work is alright – quiet, but she enjoys the quiet. She doesn’t have a job, but sometimes dwells on the divulgences of an inner water-cooler. False gossip is just as well-taken.