Large Language Messiah

Slack made that awful brush-knocking sound.

“Jonathan, please expedite that findings and insights document to me as soon as possible, per our last conversation. Thanks, Lawson.”

He considered another coffee, his fifth. But, no, that precious half-hour of bliss came from the first cup, maybe the second, but the fifth would only further fractionate his attention.

On the bright side, this tech job made other parents jealous of his parents. Is the meaning of my life to make old people I don’t even know jealous of my parents? But, no, Jonathan force-quit that thought. He gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows behind his corner cubicle. It was an exceptionally sunny day; tree branches stretched, reaching, reaching, nearly touching the glass. A crescent moon was between their limbs.

Unfortunately, finding the motivation to finish that findings and insights document sounded about as possible as hurling himself, on his own chair, all the way to the daytime moon.

Maybe a walk.

Hi, Mary. Hi, Shelly. They smiled at him. Placid, eyeless smiles. They exchanged a sort of ritual toward connection. “How was your weekend!” It seemed to be signifying some emotion felt long ago but now only a copy of a copy: a JPEG filled with artifacts, abstracted to oblivion.