“What are you?” she asks. She doesn’t know why she asks—it’s as if there is some compulsion to do so.The mass of purplish-black goo answers ...romptly. ‘I am of a race called the Synth.’“Did you come down from the sky?” she continues to ask as she presses her hand further forward.The Synth reacts and begins to ripple with excitement. ‘I crashed here. I hoped to find an acceptable host.’“A host for what?”The purplish-black goo bulges and begins to stretch out tentatively toward the outstretched. The very first day Tina warned me, “Brad, Dave and I are not too careful about what we wear and sometimes at night I like to sleep naked so don’t be embarrassed.” I always sensed some distance between Tina and Dave and I did not pay too much attention to it. Dave did not speak much to me; on the other hand Tina liked to chat with me before I went to bed. Typically after her bath she would come to my room to ask me about my day or see how things were going. She always wore a low neck short. More

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