MCP3 “Ok, but you’re ‘good’ or whatever, right?” I ask.

“Not all of us, but I am right now,” she replies, with a kind smile. And she changed, right when before she smiled, and it wasn’t like she ‘changed into’ one from the other, - the previous her, just wasn’t. She was her, and I was confused, and the spoonful revealed a doggedly apathetic will to understand Why Things Were. “Sounds great.” I have no idea where the spoon went and hope I haven’t pocketed it. “What are the side effects? Drug, not…uh, you?” She laughs but it’s controlled. “They never leave your body. Take too many and they stay in your head, and someone has to feed you and everything else until you die.” I sincerely hoped that was way more than the spoonful.