Always Tomorrow, Mochi

Mochi stares at a cardboard box shaped like a PC like it's about to boot up Windows

any second now. He blinks once, twice, then whispers tomorrow it will be real,

right? The box just sits there. Silent. Cardboard.

Mocking him. He taps it with his paw. Nothing. He sniffs it.

Still nothing. His eyes get sadder than a cancelled preorder. He takes a deep

breath and mutters one day it'll appear. Pure hope. Pure delusion. Mochi believes with

his whole heart that this cardboard rectangle will transform into a gaming rig. It won't.

But he doesn't care. He nods to himself like he just signed a contract with the tech gods.