It was the name of some online group (at Matrix maybe). I saw it while trying unsuccessfully to find signs of life, and I saved it. “Gente”, we, People. Most of the last indigenous tribes in this part of the world called themselves that too, in their own languages.

An us-and-them dynamic. Maybe it’s not always a completely bad thing? Some bad in it for sure. Everyone knows the dangers it can pose, and yet …

I’m sure I could shoulder my way into the Sons of the American Revolution, but it wouldn’t make me proud. I don’t care about the compromised, dead revolt. Only about the next one.

Scatterlings. Attempting to gravitationally attract each other in the vacuum. The odds of it happening are astronomically against, but given sufficient scale in space and time, it happens now and then, routinely.

Kittens pop up like foam on the surface of a pond.

What then?