Zana’s Reviews > Fetal Position > Status Update

What in the sci-fi trad wife cult is happening here

“I eyed my mother suspiciously. She only called me 143 when she was trying to calm me down. She thought it was a cute nickname, a balm to help regulate my emotions, but I always saw that moniker as a reminder of her playing God again— and I was just another petri dish of hers, another experiment to test out a hypothesis.”

This is so gross

“...I screamed with all my might, not because it was a bot my mother was tinkering with, but because the voice coming from the bot was my mother’s voice. It had the exact same inflection, the same tone that always had a hint of admonishment in it. The bot cocked its head to the side, recalibrating itself, confused by my extreme reaction.”

So creepy

“...But I could see her discomfort as she registered the polarizing color of my eyes. A sadistic part of me wanted her to understand the significance of sitting across the table from someone who had eyes that were a bioluminescent yellow. Women were often unnerved by what they symbolized; they understood it meant my mother willingly chose pregnancy during the height of the seventh-wave feminism movement.”

What