Humanoids……………………………………………………………………………………………..………………Charlie Cave, VI

arrived, he noticed the sink overflowing with dishes, the counters covered in plates and food and utensils, littered without care like the remnants of an airplane crash. The knife block was empty and tipped over sideways on the countertop. Mrs. Margrove was nowhere in sight. He noticed a door leading to a staircase heading down that was slightly ajar and walked over to

it.

“Mrs. Margrove?” He got no response, so he decided to walk further down the stairs. The creaking of the stairs below his feet became drowned out by the progressively louder tea kettle and bird, still clattering around upstairs. He took in a breath and descended to the bottom of the stairs. In the basement, lying on a table, stuffed with cotton and partially sewn up with thread, was a redhaired figure. He scrambled to run, then felt an impact on the back of his head, and everything went dark and silent. In the living room, the bird settled into its cage, carrying a mouse in the claws it had been hiding under its vibrant coat.

Humanoids

Charlie Cave '22

We are all cyborgs, Malfunctioning without phones, Now, our second brain