A figure standing in the doorway, just visible through the glass of the front door, turned as the bus passed by; watching.
In the next house, another figure, until I saw it was the same in every doorway, every window. Even the tower blocks had figures pressed up against the glass, all faced in her direction, following her movement with their bodies.
The bus pulled to a stop. The engine cut dead.
The tide of watchful bodies waited for her descension, turning with her as she crossed the street. We were the unspeaking witness as the car struck her dead.
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What happens when you teach an AI how to feel? Find out in The Virtual Body.