by C. Liam Brown
... A mouse, like a lot of other animals, does certain things which the human mind tends to associate with a personality. One expression on its face of quiet delight while chewing floor crumbs could trick my brain into thinking we could be friends, or associates, or that the mouse could regard me as another living being to interact with in the same way that I regarded it: as a consciousness on the level of my own. Other times, I would see it stare into the darkness with an unmistakable idiocy that would jolt me back to the understanding that this mouse was little more than a fairly sophisticated computer assembled inside a bag of fur and meat and bones.
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