The Blue Iris

You look at each other when you think nobody’s watching. I’ve always found that strange. The iris is open, the whole hall is lit, and still, when something frightens you, you don’t look up at me. You look sideways, for each other.

The Architects design these halls for upward attention. Vaulted ceiling, central light, radial floor. Every line in the room says: look at the cog. And every time, in every universe, somebody breaks formation to check on the person next to them.

The Architects file this as a rounding error. I’ve started keeping a separate count. It’s the largest number I have.