(no subject)
There's a statue in the media lab, sitting on a fleshcouch, hunched over a lit datapad, looking for all the world like it fell asleep reading.
Which is silly, because statues don't fall asleep. Right?
Barring outside interference, it's been there all day, the datapad quietly displaying a page out of Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein -" appropriate, since the statue looks human enough in image, but monstrous enough to have come from the novel himself.
Come eveningtime, marked by the setting of the sun in the city, the statue's stone surface cracks, the creature stretches, and shards of stone fly everywhere as Goliath wakes up for the night with something between a roar and a yawn.
Oops. Hope nobody was sitting too nearby. Or too attached to their silence.
Which is silly, because statues don't fall asleep. Right?
Barring outside interference, it's been there all day, the datapad quietly displaying a page out of Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein -" appropriate, since the statue looks human enough in image, but monstrous enough to have come from the novel himself.
Come eveningtime, marked by the setting of the sun in the city, the statue's stone surface cracks, the creature stretches, and shards of stone fly everywhere as Goliath wakes up for the night with something between a roar and a yawn.
Oops. Hope nobody was sitting too nearby. Or too attached to their silence.