Another Attempt To Bridge

This grass has been touched by the soles of sweet summer children. The blades bent low, trampled from play, baked in submission. That was hours ago and so much has passed across the glass and over the wires. The world you live in reshapes itself, a constant current of information.

AI, banking, crypto. Those are the big three, but your mind is on animal software. The air is heavy, humidity a supple skin on the grass. Nature is a system of renewal, balanced in ways the lunacy of your pursuits cannot hope to approach.

You look to your wrist, comforted by the adorable pose your creature casts in a backlit glow. You hope one day your finiliar can be a soft bridge across both worlds. Not tonight though, your children are sleeping inside, and this digital baby can only signal the belief of a single coin.

The sky is hazy, but there are breaks in it, enough so that a shower of cosmic encoded data rains down on you. Everything speaks, but the language of the heavens remains unknown. Astrophysics is an irradiated snark dampened by distance, a long murmuring tale we can only repurpose into symbols of our gods.

Stella, you name your splash dragon as you lift her high above your head. She is faint, but steady, unbowed after the bruising Binance took today. This is another attempt to bridge, to connect the dots between the fine-grained splatters that constitute you and the universe you are nothing to.

You feel silly and alone, but that is why you came out tonight. Child’s play is the safe cocoon from which you can signal a belief in a great cosmic chain. You only wish there was something more you could say, but the naive optimism of technology is the only magic available to you.

The finiliar is swallowed up into the darkness, then engulfed by an alert. The sky falls on you, but your eyes are on the watch. News calls you back to your computer. It never ends and you’ll never make sense of it, only continue to answer the call. You are a conduit, a conductor. The medium of transmission is how you make your living.

Meaning remains above your pay grade. You can only approach it with brief silly prayers, the same way a child would. As you pass by your daughter’s door, you whisper “animal software”, then scurry off to serve your master.