The feeling of warmth and comfort radiates even more, drawing her closer. She doesn’t even realize that she is on her feet, walking toward the cente... until she is nearly right on it. Tentatively, Sarah steps toward it, sticking her hand out at it.“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 promptly. ‘I am of a race called the Synth.’“Did you come down from the sky?” she continues to ask as she. He called up to the kitchen asking me to bring him his cigarettes. I took them down to him. We were alone and he said “I think you have something for me?” Somewhat upbeat I replied back to him “yes, I do. They are back here on your workbench.” “You know you aren’t supposed to go near my workbench.”He rose from the couch and followed behind me. When we got to the bench I pulled the box from underneath and handed it to him. I had managed to fold the flaps to keep the box closed. He looked at me. More

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