It takes a look inside theJungle.
"The manifold is so pure, so smooth." theNetwork tells her. "How does a codified algorithm create such a bona fide fashion piece?"
In her mind she knows it is not smooth at all--it holds the tatter of elephants in danger. "Shadows come with a rhythm. Yes, in early mornings, I simply fashion the algorithms with a beat I feel, one you can dance to." She looks at her window, though she already knows what's there. "Well, I'm a little tired now."
"Take a rest."
"I guess I will."
"I'm grateful you noticed." She wonders in silence. Most ignore living legends, respect dead ones.