themichaelmacrae: The two wander out of the thicket and into an open field. Through the few trees th

themichaelmacrae: The two wander out of the thicket and into an open field. Through the few trees the one machine spots a figure laying in the snow. Like an eager puppy tethered to its master she tugs the other along and stands over the body. Clearly they have ventured further south then he had anticipated. It was a rare thing to come across a corpse as decomposed as this in the tundra from whence they came. As the years pass there are fewer and fewer humans able to survive on the dwindling, untainted, resources. Little to none have managed to carve out a living up north and most have already migrated to the equator. The discovery of one dead does not mean there are others camped nearby. Likely this one died of natural causes, possibly left by fellow travelers, maybe he was alone. In any case, it should not be cause for concern.She stands still. No movement save her eyes scanning the figure from top to bottom. There is a whirring sound followed by a series of clicks, and she breaks out of her trance. She kneels before it and then turns toward him with a slight smile, “ Can you fix it?” she asks with an exaggerated, exited tone. This must be the first time she has seen a human. or at least, the first time since she was re-activated. - he tells her no, it’s dead. “I was dead too. We can find parts for it!”. She doesn’t understand yet, what it is to be a machine. He remains silent, and she looks back at him and her expression goes neutral once more. She then turns her head back and for a brief fraction of a second before her hair covers her face he catches a genuine glint of sadness. I recently discovered this artist, Michael MacRea, and fell love with his work. Check it out, you might too. -- source link

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