The Pirate Ship and the City

Rover ran a running commentary as the city began to wake. The smell of meatfolk was something no one could replicate, like a loop satisfyingly simple and familiar. Abel blocked the trackers trying to find their location in the city. There were drone folk penned up somewhere. Drone folk stuck with their programming. Drone folk waited for the next order, which would never come. River watched a woman cycle past, twist, curl pigtails, and a sky blue shirt. In between one woman to the next, everything went dark. Not light, dark, quiet, dark. It was enough.