There’s a sign hanging up on the side of the fence, although I’m not sure it really merits the word ‘sign’. It looks more like a pasted preschool collage — letters snatched from holo displays and antique marquees mashed together like Mark’s Thursday-night casserole.

I check the screen on my wrist, pulling up the infofeed and matching it to the words on the sign.

First Fragmented Church of Entropy

Speaking of Mark, where the heck is he? He’s the one who dragged me here, after all…

Read the rest of the story in Nature Futures
Read my guest post about the story behind the story in Nature Futures Conditional blog