We were running. Our legs ached but we could not stop. Hearts pounding, this was the revolution and we were taking over.
"Stop the machines!"
But they are the machines, cruel metal and an autonomic voice. They argue that we're the machines now: crafted by an invisible being.
Yeah. Right.
Ooh I like that the concept of what is 'made' - them and/or us! I'm not sure how the end ("Yeah. Right.") pays off - what am I meant to think/feel?
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