spiritplumber
Spaceman
I gave her my webcam and took her old one
she's beautiful, I didn't need high resolution.
Now she's gone and we traded webcams again.
She made a fuss.
It's black, shiny, new. It's staring at me with
its little purple eye.
The world wanted to look through me when I was
looking at her, my new webcam says. Who'll want
to use me now?
I will, I say. You had one user then, you have
one now -- I bought you, I installed you, welcome
back.
The little eye in the plastic frame doesn't answer.
Outside, the wind moves some leaves, and I see the
reflection -- Is my webcam crying?
Nobody will look through me, it says. I'm only a
few months old, and I'm already junk.
So I connect it to my PC and it sits there still,
accusingly. You have to understand; it was designed
to let its user show of how pretty they are.
I wonder what I will do now. My webcam will probably
record robots moving their first uncertain steps,
new jewelry shining its first light up at the window,
some artwork, maybe. But I don't think it will show
a human face again...
I wonder what I will do now. I will be myself, and
be everything she could have been, should have been.
But no pretty face will ever go down that wire
again, either way. Look at that little eye, it has
a grey plastic frame. It's very businesslike.
Get to work, it says, and I'll help you show your
soul to the world as I helped her show her face, it's
what I do.
It's what it does; it's a webcam.
she's beautiful, I didn't need high resolution.
Now she's gone and we traded webcams again.
She made a fuss.
It's black, shiny, new. It's staring at me with
its little purple eye.
The world wanted to look through me when I was
looking at her, my new webcam says. Who'll want
to use me now?
I will, I say. You had one user then, you have
one now -- I bought you, I installed you, welcome
back.
The little eye in the plastic frame doesn't answer.
Outside, the wind moves some leaves, and I see the
reflection -- Is my webcam crying?
Nobody will look through me, it says. I'm only a
few months old, and I'm already junk.
So I connect it to my PC and it sits there still,
accusingly. You have to understand; it was designed
to let its user show of how pretty they are.
I wonder what I will do now. My webcam will probably
record robots moving their first uncertain steps,
new jewelry shining its first light up at the window,
some artwork, maybe. But I don't think it will show
a human face again...
I wonder what I will do now. I will be myself, and
be everything she could have been, should have been.
But no pretty face will ever go down that wire
again, either way. Look at that little eye, it has
a grey plastic frame. It's very businesslike.
Get to work, it says, and I'll help you show your
soul to the world as I helped her show her face, it's
what I do.
It's what it does; it's a webcam.