"I mean... there are things I have slow down and remind myself I don't want. I don't want to, say, violently take over the world, because that would be dangerous and there would be casualties and even if I pulled it off it would probably be hard to hire good help after a stunt like that. That doesn't mean I never think about taking over the world, it means I, like, pause, and go, 'the actual details of this would be unpalatable'."

"I have like... the exact opposite of that problem? Also, wait, you want to take over the world?"

"I just explained that I don't want to take over the world! It would be a huge mess. But every now and then I read the news and I'm like 'I could fix this if I had more than vague symbolic power over involved parties!'."

"Okay, so you don't want to take over the world, you just want to have already taken over the world. Well, I don't want to go around ripping people's bones out for the results, the results are a bunch of murdered people with their bones missing, that's exactly what I don't want. It's the, like," he blushes, "process."

"So you want, like, virtual reality?"

"Maybe. Um. It would have to be pretty good virtual reality, I think."

"Well, in the extremely high resolution actual reality, after we have dinner we can mess with the cinders. ...Is the problem that if you had nobody who wanted cinders put on them you might start stealing people's bones, is that what's got you upset?"

"I mean, no? I don't know? I hope not? Before you came along and were all convenient at me I sort of... didn't really even think that would ever be a thing that could possibly happen. And I wasn't stealing anybody's bones then."

"But you're worried anyway."

"I'm worried because I don't think most people have to deal with thinking about stealing people's bones, like, at all, and I don't know what would have to happen before it'd start looking like a good idea, and - I wish I didn't have to deal with this stuff! I wish my first thought when somebody starts ripping people's bones out wasn't 'man, I wanna see that'!"

Beila squeezes his hand. "I'm sorry."

He sighs. "Thanks."

"You could, like, get a therapist, if this is majorly upsetting you?"

"I don't wanna talk to a therapist about my murder problems. Especially not when there is an actual murderer around? Like if they think you're a danger to people they have to tell the cops, right? So now is a really bad time to be telling a professional that I think about ripping people's bones out."

"I think they're capable of distinguishing people who can distinguish fantasy and reality? But I get it if you don't want to trust that. And the timing is kind of awkward, fair."

"I really do not want to trust that. Like. I don't want to start stealing anybody's bones but I think I even less than that want to go to jail for stealing people's bones when I didn't do it and the actual bone-stealing guy is still out there somewhere probably going to steal more bones."

"Yeah. After they catch him, maybe."

"Maybe," he sighs.

Handsqueeze.

Tiny smile.

Hiking, hiking.

Such pretty wilderness.

So pretty!