It’s going to be the future soon.

I have The Future Soon by Jonathan Coulton in my head. At one point this evening, after snuggling my son into near-sleep, I did a brief literary analysis of the parts I had in my head. It went something like this:

Part in my head: …Last week I left a note on Laura’s desk/It said I love you, signed Anonymous Friend/Turns out she’s smarter than I thought she was/She knows I wrote it, now the whole class does…

Me, analyzing: Hm. Laura’s more observant than he thought she was. Then there are the robot wars and the “accident” which destroy her eyes. He replaces her eyes with bionic ones (which he has designed… hmm, and can he control them, too?) but she looks at him and she knows what he has done. He can get to the point of actual physical control of her eyes and still he cannot control her perception of events or of him. He never could, and that drives him crazy (okay, he was already there, short trip).

These are the things one thinks when cuddling a four-year-old to sleep. And I wonder why he turns to me after long moments of still silence and says, “I was running from the sound of the drain.”


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