““So what else do you want to do?” Bitsy stared directly ahead, her legs a blur beneath her as she matched Aristide’s long strides. “I don’t know,” she said. “There you have it,” Aristide said. “The Existential Crisis in a nutshell.” “If I could evolve,” Bitsy said, “I might have better answers.” “A brain the size of a planet,” said Aristide, “and you’re as fucked by Sartre as the rest of us.””
