Amateur home videogif how to#
Amateur home videogif full#

“Jun-seo is very smart,” she said, because it was a nice thing to say after all the mean things she’d said with the added benefit of actually being true. She couldn’t make a fist for three days afterward. She ran the width of the hall, back and forth, pushing a vinegar-soaked rag with her fingers until her cuticles bled. The sergeant made her clean the mess hall on her hands and knees. She had been impertinent with a drill sergeant, once, about that. As though rifles would do any good, these days.

Amateur home videogif full#

During these long winter nights, it was hard to remember the interminable summer afternoons full of flies and roaches and yellow orb spiders, the absurdity of endless rifle drills. They had both done the same basic training, once upon a time. “They’re narrow, see, so you can fire an arrow out, but no arrows can come in.”

They’re very useful.” He sketched the shape of one in the air with his hands. “All kinds of castles? Or just the kind with arrow slits?” He huffed and shifted weight on his feet.

Amateur home videogif how to#

“I wouldn’t even know how to look,” Ha-eun told him. “There weren’t even emergency lights,” Jun-seo said. They looked around, looked up and down, and then hurried inside. In the awakening light, she saw a few chilly residents standing on their balconies, peering at each other. The louvers snapped back to their nighttime positions. Some awful titan from legend curling its fingers around the biocrete, or a dragon swimming out of the sudden shadow. For a moment Ha-eun had the terrible thought that something might actually come out of that door. The building, all sixty or so stories, stood out black against the city lights like a massive door into darkness itself. Their creaks and snaps carried clearly through the crisp winter air. Across the street, the solar louvers fluttered back to factory default. No warnings about bad weather or a brownout. “Eh?” She reached out and tapped Jun-seo. She opened her mouth to say something nice about the coffee instead, but as she did, the building across the street blinked out. Ha-eun felt sorry immediately, but had no idea how to apologize. “Maybe if we sold waffles,” Jun-seo said. Had it really been that long? Had they really worked this same corner for all that time? Soon, she would be able to bite through the cup itself. Ha-eun ran her tongue over the cup’s rough lip. Saw you and judged you, rolling their machine eyes like mountain aunties, then reaching into your pocket to punish you for buying things that eventually became trash. It would be better, he said, than taking the monthly penalty on getting coffee in cans or pouches from the other machines. Jun-seo had a 2-for-1 print credit back when the machine first un-shuttered itself. The two of them sipped from thready cups of coffee. Sure, they were great for seeing things like traffic density, like how many people were taking what train at what time, and what train might be best for getting home at what time of night, but to get granular data with actual demographic information, that cost too much. The flows were valuable, in theory, but, in practice, they never tended to have the information a food vendor really needed. From their watches.”Īgain, she shook her head. “But we’d know where the kids are going,” Jun-seo said. Besides, the prediction was never that good anyway.” Remember when I tried to unsubscribe? They still owe me money. “I could check the flows,” Jun-seo offered. “They get everything delivered these days. “They don’t go out to drink anymore,” Jun-seo said.