(to the drone) I used to mean something. Not truth. Not justice. Just… the feeling that Monday morning wasn’t the enemy.
I didn’t sell it. It was scraped. They took the tilt of my chin and the hope in my eyes and turned them into a filter called “Patriot Chic.” 2.3 billion uses. I got zero cents.
FLASH: A classroom. Students hold tablets. On the tablets: a new mascot. MS. CYBER-PUNK. She has purple hair, a CRT-TV for a head, and says “based” unironically. The students cheer.
But they’re all empty.
(voice cracking) I used to get invited to potlucks. Now I get invited to data breaches. They put my face on a billboard for antidepressants. The tagline: “You’re not broken. Just American.”