• bionicjoey@lemmy.ca
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    1 year ago

    There is an idea of a Elim Garak; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable… I simply am a tailor.

    • ummthatguy@lemmy.worldOP
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      1 year ago

      When I get to Worf’s place, I use the keys I took from his pocket. There is a moment of sheer panic when I realize that Worf’s quarters overlook the Promenade and is obviously more expensive than mine. I calm myself and move into the bedroom, where I find his suitcase and start to pack.