Peace*Peace4 years ago in Scraps More Like This
Miss Wallace could have compressed the entire file into one four-second video: Elliot and Jack standing in the clearing, watching Peace's empty body fill with rain.
Instead, she created a new memory bank and named it "Mortality."
Her knowledge of the subject was limited to the definitions they'd fed her at Parent Programming: a condition of impermanence, potential for termination, the impossibility of repair. Descriptions of life, not the end of it. They told her she wasn't manufactured to understand death. What, then, was a twelve-year-old boy who had been emptied of his internal organs?
It was nothing a soldering gun could fix. It wasn't a rusty actuator, or a ruptured filament. This was human life spilled across a forest floor, and Miss Wallace--who knew nothing of transience--had never seen anything so final.
"Peace," Elliot whispered.
The world was blurred and unsteady through the live feed of her son's anesthetized synapses