There were only two dive shops on Con Dao when I arrived-one at a fancy hotel for Westerners, and another little shop that wasn’t doing well. Before that I worked for a dive place in Nha Trang. I came to the archipelago ten … no, eleven years ago now. Inside was the shadow of another set of lips and teeth.ĭon’t look at her. The noodles sank into the glitchy surface of the digital mask’s lips. “I don’t usually use this setting.” The oscillations of the abglanz flattened the woman’s inflection. Lawrence could make out the faint outline of her real face, drifting below the surface. The abglanz settled to a bland construct of a female face. ![]() “I’m sorry-does that thing have another setting?” The color-swarm of the abglanz identity shield masking her face shifted and wavered. Lawrence concentrated his attention instead on the woman across the table, wiping her chopsticks with a wedge of lime. ![]() Under its shelter, wreathed in kitchen steam and human chatter, waiters wove between tables with steaming bowls of soup, glasses of iced coffee, and bottles of beer.īeyond the wall of rain, electric motorbikes swept past like luminescent fish. The plastic awning of the café streamed with rain. ![]() DISTRICT THREE of the Ho Chi Minh Autonomous Trade Zone. An electrical symphony of communication streams through our neurons every moment we exist. There is no silence in the living nervous system.
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