Adieu
Boiled leather. Hot Glue. Fresh paper. Ink. Cloth. These were the smells that accompanied my birth. Pressed into existence by the steel slats of a mindless machine, I rode out on the conveyor belt beneath rows of swinging, flickering, white factory lights beside hundreds of my brothers and sisters. We had no idea where we were, who we were, or where we were headed. All we could hear were the rumblings and ramblings of the massive humans, the clamp-click of machines, and the soft whirring of the fans above like metal suns.