Bruno’s Recording

The Lottery of Empathy – Post 8: Bruno’s Recording

By Tina Winterlik aka Zipolita

[Voice Memo – Day 53]

*Click.*

Alright, 3:22 a.m. I can’t sleep. Hip’s screaming again. Left one always flares up in the cold. Probably rusting.

I saw her again today. The tall one. Riley? Rachel? Whatever. Pretending she didn’t see me. She did. They all do.

This is the fourth time. That’s not random. That’s design.

This thing we’re in—this isn’t a damn contest. It’s a simulation. Behavioral ops. Data extraction. I’d bet money they’re feeding this into a pattern algorithm somewhere.

They don’t want empathy. They want measurement. They want to see what breaks first—your stomach, your spine, or your soul.

That Indigenous kid—Juno—sharp eyes. Quiet. Watching me. Could be handler, could be just smart. Not sure yet.

Danny thinks he’s slick. Walks like he’s still got clean socks. Probably hiding something. Everyone’s hiding something.

The girl with the baby eyes—Malika? She helped the dog. That one… that moment… I don’t know. Messed me up a little.

I had a dog once. Tank. Big old mutt. Grew up with me. Slept next to my rucksack during deployment. Got sick after the last base job. I buried him under a cedar tree I don’t remember planting.

I still hear him sometimes. Night wind howls just right and it sounds like he’s asking where I went.

*Pause.*

My dad would’ve said I’m soft now. “You’ve gone weird,” he told me last Christmas. He still drinks rye like it’s medicine. Still thinks I should’ve stayed in the army, fake hips and all.

Mom sent a card. Didn’t sign it. Just a picture of snow and an old woman with a dog in the background. I stared at that thing for an hour before tossing it.

This whole city stinks of rot. Wet concrete and broken promises. Commercial Station smells like the end of the world. People die there with their eyes open.

But that dog—Luna—she gave birth behind a dumpster, and somehow... it didn’t feel hopeless. Not for a second.

*Long pause.*

They want me to crack. I won’t.

But I will keep watching.

*Click.*

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