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By Evan Mercer in musings — 06 May 2026

No one wanted to sit down after the machine said, “Do not mistake the body for the patient.”

Empty pharmacy blood-pressure machine with three adults standing around it at a respectful distance.

He had narrowed it down to two cards and one fruit.

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Existential dread level: normal. Whatever he did seems to have worked.

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There were signs a ritual had taken place, or possibly even budget planning.

There were signs a ritual had taken place, or possibly even budget planning.

There were signs a ritual had taken place, or possibly even budget planning.

The machine was not falling for this again.

The machine was not falling for this again.

The machine was not falling for this again.

Backup shadow. Sensible.

Backup shadow. Sensible.

Backup shadow. Sensible.

The higher the buildings rose, the less they belonged to the street.

The higher the buildings rose, the less they belonged to the street.

The higher the buildings rose, the less they belonged to the street.

Evan, perhaps © 2026

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