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Cicada Days
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i can feel something inside me say
[ *  *  *  * ]
Abby legitimately looked impressed, somehow. Irene's first instinct was to feel gratified, validated in her ignoble pursuits. Second instinct was to be slightly suspicious. Abby wasn't a nerd, geek, creep, loser, or any of the other folk Irene knew from her general gaming circle. But hey, it was probably just legitimate openness of mind and heart. Irene decided she liked Abby more than ever, in this moment of moments. Irene also decided that she needed to get some new gaming friends.

"I mean, I guess I just care about it and that's why it all works out. Like you and your commitments to the community. I doubt I could track all of that." Well, maybe. Maybe if Irene was just a little more inspired. Reached out that tiny little thing she called a hand a little more. Irene didn't want to think about that anymore, though, and the conversation was changing currents as rapidly as Irene's own neurons were. She could sail around the rough patch, straight for smooth waters and easy times. 'Mutual decency and charity'. Ugh, no. Irene wasn't about to entertain the disquieting, slow and pained rumination anymore than she had to. Abby was talking about what she believed in, what made her tick. What made her a better woman. Irene was even inclined to read the sudden tic in Abby's smile the wrong way. Abby had a cannon pointed her way, but it wasn't quite the friendly one.

Irene was just being silly. She just needed a moment, a protracted one where she seemed visibly disturbed, eyes fluttering between several states of focusing on nothing in particular. And then it was all good, she half-forgot why she had weathered a gnarl in the contortions of her intestines. Irene straightened up into a sitting position, knees clamped to her chest, so she could watch Abby lounge against the tree.

"Yeah, I guess..." A very well-thought out response, for sure. "Oh. Philosophy. I believe in the scientific method, I guess. And I skew liberal, like Jeffersonian or LBJ or Carter level ideals. I dunno about religion but I like the sound of your guy." Irene had missed the name, something like Alexander Graham Bell? "Hell's just, like, Pavlovian conditioning for the ancient man. Scare tactic, you know?"
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Your Tired, Your Poor, Your Huddled Masses · Grounds