2061-10-16 10:05
Heads up. White robes at the Sector 6 soup line again this morning, six of them, shaven heads, those daft circuit-board halos wired to a battery on the belt. Handing out warm bread, proper bread, with little paper tracts: THE SLEEPER BENEATH THE GLASS LIBRARY WAKES. BE UPLOADED. They're getting that flour from somewhere and it isn't me.