Rainbows End

Over the wind, he heard the sound of electric motors torquing up. His car was driving off to do business elsewhere.

“That’s a fine Colombian accent you’re hiding.”

Learning a language, or a career specialty, changes a person. Cram in such skills willy-nilly and you distort the underlying personality.

But he would flail and flail—and when the command did work, the success gave him a pitiful spike of joy and he worked even harder. Like a boy with a new computer game. Or a trained rat.

Many people were talking to themselves, sometimes gesturing into the empty air, or jabbing fingers at unseen antagonists. Nothing new in that; cellphone addicts had always been one of Robert’s pet peeves. But these folks were more blatant about it than the kids at Fairmont High. There was something foolish about a fellow walking along, suddenly sto

“But the skin texture is from a Fantasists Guild example library. The color scheme is a cliché. The plaid kilt would be cute if it weren’t in all the Epiphany Now ads.”

“Just tools of the trade, the humdrum ones. It’s the meds and machines that are floating around inside you that are really interesting.”

Now when he looked at a real object in “just that way,” explanations would pop up. With the proper squint or stare at attendant icons, he got the added detail he wanted. Look at the object a different way, and he often could see through and beyond it!

whatchamagoogle…