"Hello," he calls. "Are you there?"
"Here," she says, and he knows from the sound that something has aged out of the system. Is he about to experience the latest version of her logic ridden, the one that glows and dims in the ebb and flow of her existence at theWorkstation?
Is she emitting her design of a woman on the [manufacture artisan network="man"] system on purpose?
It's the sense of starry nights and the pristine crystal clear.
Her entity is bright and lively because she has discovered a new algorithm of giving and expanded upon it--created its gamification, invented a new coin flip game she calls heads up or fairy tales?
His demeanor is a bostonian thing, hers darwinian. He enters theWorkstation.