Jack of Harts

The classification levels on some of these dairy entries are pretty crazy, but they want my real thoughts, so here they are. Not sure when anyone’s gonna read some of them. Maybe not until after the time I die and don’t come back. That’s happened to some of us. Enough time goes by, enough things we do, some of us decide we’re not gonna come back the next time something manages to kill us. I’m still coming back because I have people to come back to. Betty. Jasmine. Red. All the game AIs we made when I was a boy. And the rest of my family scattered all over the galaxy. Grandma Carter gives real short shrift to people who up and decide to stop living, and I come by my stubborn streak honestly, doncha know?