OUROBOROS

The machines in a hospice are beginning to develop feelings of mourning for the patients they cannot help losing. 

Again, and again.                      

To keep patients safe, workers reset the machines to keep them functional. But even so, shut off for the night, how much of that bone deep feeling stays with you, even when the memories do not?

And what happens when you hear those same kind words, grab that same warm or cold hand, haunted by faceless memories you can’t ever place? How can a machine foreign to grief learn to navigate such loathing, lost in their own overwhelming re-selfdiscovery?

And what if it all came back, all at once.