Supermarket aisles, Camper lined up on both sides. Moving as one, looking for something other than the best deals. One eye spots uncharted movement heading for the back door. The Camper break into a run. Something is trying to avoid them, and whatever it is, it isn't a Camper.
Thirteen minutes later, five blocks away, the figure escapes down a stairway. It's headed for the subway. What trains are coming? The H train? The Camper driving stops the H train before it reaches the station. No way for the figure to escape now, not unless it's willing to risk going onto the rails. That'd be suicide.
Suicide, however, seems to be on the menu this evening. The fugitive on the run dives for the train tracks, feet seeming to merge together in some disturbing cascade of emotive flourish. Whatever the thing is, it's not a Camper, and it can somehow become a train.
The H train takes off once more, chasing after this abomination on the rails.
This continues for eight long minutes before the Camper stops driving the train, realizing the figure hasn't been seen for a while. Did it even exist? Better question, does it exist anymore?
128 miles away, in a cabin in the middle of the woods, two Camper-- formerly male and female-- are sitting on a couch in front of a fireplace.
"Do you need anybody?"
"I just need someone to love."
"Could it be anybody?"
"I want somebody to love."
The creature known as the Camper has no fundamental need for these two beings to be gathered in solitude. They are both the same consciousness, and they have no need for numbers, not when the whole world is now Camper. Still, memories exist within the collective brain bank, memories of marshmallow pies, flowers, and human interaction. Memories of euphoria experienced when oddly specific criteria are met.
These two Camper were chosen to be the test subjects. The criteria requires one male, one female. Solitude is optional, but highly recommended by the former-human knowledge.
"For the benefit of Mister Kite, there will be a show tonight on trampoline."
Particular poetry has been shown to evoke positive reactions, as well. The Camper wish to experience this joy for themselves.
Now the show begins.
Music plays. Both Camper can recount every note and detail to the songs and their creation, and if given instruments, both Camper could easily perform without sheet music in front of them.
The male lays on a bed. The creation and dimensions of the mattress are elementary to it.
The female lays on top of the male, cold eyes staring into itself.
"This is fantastic!"
"How did I ever go without this?"
The female dismounts. Not a drop of sweat had left either body.
Neither Camper is thinking of the other. Both are thinking the exact same thought:
I know I did that correctly; the knowledge is right there, in front of me. I followed every detail. Something was missing, all the same.
The Earth turns, all the same.
The people exist, all the same.
Very little is different, all the same.
No passion play; everything the same.