the printer dreams in mirrors
I was walking down a street that looked like Alameda but wasn’t. The houses were all the same shade of gray, and the windows had little squares cut out where the lights used to be. I kept thinking I knew where I was, but the signposts kept changing. One said “Burbank” and another said “Not Burbank.” I didn’t care. I was following a sound. It was a humming, like a fan but not quite. The sound came from a door I didn’t remember opening. I pushed it open and found myself inside a 3D printer. The print bed was a mirror, and I could see my reflection in the plastic. I reached out and touched the surface. It was warm. The printer was still running. ...