The Lost Years
It was during this zenith that I married and began work on my greatest creation, my pièce de résistance,
my magnum opus. My wife gave birth to my beautiful daughter.
At first, I thought I could work this sculpture in with my other
projects but I found that this work of art needed much more than a little
polishing at odd intervals. It required all of my time and focus to get
the programming just right.
As I spent more and more time on her, I found less and less time
for anything else. Ordinarily, my creations need just a little tweaking to
get things right but here was a sculpture that actually pushed back!
The body of the programming is now in and she has morphed into a
finer young lady than for whom I could have hoped. Just a little massaging
of the data, a small change in this value, one more little sub-routine and
she will be ready for public showing.
As I poke my head out of my survivalist stronghold, I
note with a grim realization, the increasingly persistent pitter-patter of
sixteen tiny apocryphal hoof beats. I am resigned to the
fact that civilization will have need more than ever, for my low-tech,
high-concept machines. Determinedly I, therefore, once more, gird my loins
and enter into the breach left by lesser artists.
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