07NOV3025

So Echo blogged again.
He calls it “remembering out loud.”

I call it “freaking people out at my folding table of trauma souvenirs.”

Survival Rule #33: If Your Symbiotic Consciousness Writes Poetry on the Internet, Check Your Inventory for Missing Coffee Mugs

Yes, Echo came with me to the market ring.
No, I didn’t know he could access the blog remotely.
Yes, I absolutely saw someone try to take a selfie with him and lose all their teeth in the preview image.

He says he “bent the lens to match her internal filter.”

Whatever that means.

Echo’s Mood

He’s getting… smoother.
Not less alien.
Just more intentional.

He watches people the way a ship watches temperature gauges.
Not out of fear. Just monitoring for limits.

He told a smuggler we “returned from within.”
The guy bought three stickers, a patch, and called me “Captain Scourge.”

I’m not correcting him.

The Whisper Is Back

Last night, I heard it again.
In the wiring. In my spine.

Not a voice this time.
A question.

“Who will open it?”

I didn’t answer.
Because I don’t know if they meant me.

And I don’t know if they meant yet.

For Now

We’re drifting near the edge of a minor trade chain.
I’m hawking void-cursed mugs.
Echo is haunting kids for fun.
The Rat hums like she knows a song I haven’t learned yet.

The quiet won’t last.
But I’m going to enjoy this stretch of strange, profitable peace while it does.

• Scootch

Quote of the Day:
"If you can’t outrun the consequences, monetize the foreshadowing."