Amber:

Thank you. You said so much, so beautifully, so well that you've left me without much of a response other than to say I read your comments a couple of times, each time with a fresh smile, finding new meaning in your words.

... time passed. no, it did not pass. time stood still. beauty passed, loved passed, mulishness passed

Yes, how we bark up the wrong tree. Then when we find the right tree, we have laryngitis.

Happy 2008!

Uptowngal:

Thanks. Have a great 2008.

Sum_Off:

How are you? Thanks for the comments. You've given me  many talking points; I hope on purpose. As for  how well this story has fared, it has exceeded my expectations and I am happy about it. Based on what I have experienced with some of the other stories, including an incomplete one (my new year's resolution is to complete it this year), I am quite aware of the limited appeal of something like this. Thanks for the concern though; the goodwill behind it is palpable and much appreciated.

the genre you have chosen in your last couple of writings challenges my intelligence. I don’t want to be challenged; I just want to scroll through to the bottom.   

There are others, including yourself, who are far more talented than me, and I say this not merely out of politeness or courtesy but with sincerity, who can do a far better job with the type of story you mention. There is often a tussle between what the readers want to read and what the writer wants to say; you might have experienced it too. I certainly believe in the  great American tradition of literary simplicity; however, and I chose a semicolon there, there are times when I feel what the heck, there are no binding rules in literature, and if there are, it's okay to break them sometimes. There is a certain thrill to breaking rules, somewhat like stealing your neighbor's alu bokhra as a kid or making that illegal U-turn (the latter comes with a "don't-try-this-at-home" warning).

I wrote this story believing  there were enough  people on this forum who would read it. They may not be there in the multitudes but I don't seek the multitudes. The multitudes scare me; I am incapable of  pleasing them, their expectations are too high; they want me to write  about things they can relate to,  in a way they can relate to, using language and metaphors they can relate to. It's often their way or the highway. I prefer the highway. There is more artistic freedom there, more room to speed up and slow down, change lanes and take exits. That is  why I write. That  is also my response to your point "I understood what you wrote, but I did not understand why."

Lastly, on a light note, I know what you read last summer, not you Sum_off, but you and you over there. Own up now, how was Paris Hilton's Diaries?

I wish you a very happy 2008 and look forward to reading more of you in the new year.

Kevin Ekstrom:

I must confess haven't watched the movie or read the book although the synopsis for both sounded very interesting. I plan to check them out. As for the comments, you made my week with yours, so we are even now. Thank you and happy new year.

Copycat:

The idea did cross my mind. I had made provisions for that eventuality by making the chip self-destructible. I suppose when rigor mortis set in, the ionic imbalances in the human body would have short circuited and fried the chip. If not, it would have been consumed by the flames of the funeral pyre and it's ashes dispersed into the Bagmati along with it's creator's. Or maybe not, at the rate at which it was learning, it might have even learned to desire, to live, to procreate. Infinite possibilities well beyond the scope of a story on Sajha or my literary skills.  

Your curiosity is a compliment, thank you. Happy new year to you.