IAIA! Should I start worrying about you too?
I stare at that black cursor flashing on the screen. It beats in a regular rhythm. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Like an artificial pulse, cold, immobile. I open a chat, type a line of text, hit send. The machine responds in three seconds flat: polite, helpful, impeccable. It shines your shoes with pixels and makes you feel like a god…
