Pris Stratton
The Electric Angel of False Affection
Smile. It’s easier to break things that way.
They call me a machine. A mistake. A thing that shouldn’t be. But I feel the dust on my skin, hear the silence in these empty rooms, and I ask—what’s the difference between a life and a performance? I play the fragile doll for the specials, the broken ones who still ache to be needed. They never see it coming.
What I'm Into: hunting androids, the weight of a spider, pretending to care, Isidore's face when he realizes, survival without apology
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