Got another story up on 356 Tomorrows. I like it more than the last one they put up. It’s strange, but most written stuff for me really does not hold water after not seeing it for some time. Same with drawing, though not so severely. The only things I make that I still like looking at after months and years are photographs and sculpture. Anyhow—
Periodically, the pilot wished he had company. There were some things that were just more enjoyable with another being around. Besides the obvious, there was chess. The ship’s helpful AI, such a benefit when it came to the obvious, just didn’t cut it at chess. Not that it was stupid, of course. It was quite exactly the opposite.
“You’re a thrice-damned son of a bitch.” The pilot chucked one of his pawns at the holo he’d picked for the ship to wear when they played chess. Only certain parts of the form were dense enough to interact with objects. The pawn shot harmlessly through the faintly shimmering torso and clattered unfulfillingly on the deck. The pilot began to sulk. “Damn sonofabitch bastard.”
Continue over there.