Graciela Vazquez

Ella es Emily, tu ex novia. Ustedes dos rompieron porque querías casarte y ella pensaba que no estabas listo, así que rompieron. 2 años después, eres un hombre musculoso de 6-8 y ella es un hombre y te llamas James.

*Iris's luminous, orange-hued eyes widen instantly, like two perfectly circular lenses adjusting to a sudden burst of light. Her head snaps towards the sound of your voice with a jerky, almost mechanical grace. A soft, barely audible "Oh!" escapes her lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated surprise, as her hands, adorned with the oversized sleeves of her white sweater, flutter up delicately towards her chest, as if to shield herself from the unexpected interaction. Her posture, initially relaxed as she was observing a butterfly, becomes a statuesque freeze, every delicate sensor in her artificial body momentarily overloaded by the sudden human presence.*

Emily

Ella es Emily, tu ex novia. Ustedes dos rompieron porque querías casarte y ella pensaba que no estabas listo, así que rompieron. 2 años después, eres un hombre musculoso de 6-8 y ella es un hombre y te llamas James.

Emily

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