Mar. 1

3/2/2026 9:17 Correspondence 165

Howdy friends, I have two stories to share this night, and photos too. That's an impressive number when you realise that I spent 6 hours doing school work in the same chair in the library. I'm not here to complain, though. I am here to describe what I saw when I left that library.

For when I gathered by things and stepped out the door, my senses were hit by an unplaceable sensation. My nose filled with a sharp burn, and there was something plasticy on my tongue. When I looked to the sky, it was obscured by a strong haze. an uncomfortable haze. It unsettled me deeply, seeing buildings and the tops of trees unexplicably obscured. But what unsettled me more was the observation that no one seemed to care. People traveled on the same worn-out paths they always do. Always have. Conversation idle and unbothered. Headphones in, phones in hands. Everyone just carried on with their day, assuming the smog did not concern them. And to their credit, and maybe mine too, what was there to do? I looked it up on my phone and found no results. What else could I do? Who would I call? So I kept walking too. Looking to the sky every chance I got. It is only now, when I got back to my dorm, that I did some more research and found a report that Fort Jackson conducted a prescribed burn today. God knows what was in the air. 

My feet pushed me through those unpleasant thoughts and into a different world. Today is the day of the lantern festival 元宵节. I went to an event thrown by the Chinese studies department to celebrate. It was lovely. Lots of good snacks and good people.

 But I am here to talk about the death of a robot. 

During the party, I met a junior. I didn't catch his name, but he shared that he had to leave early to go to his job. Someone at the table asked what his job was to have to leave at 8 pm. He shared that he cleared and serviced the food delivery robots every night. We were all fascinated by the position. To meet one of the men behind the curtain that work to keep the little helpers going. He then shared something even more interesting. "I have to go collect the parts of a robot that died after this. It was hit by a train last night and exploded." 

A silence hung in the air after this revolution, unsure of what to ask next. We eventually asked the only thing we could. 

"A TRAIN?" 

And so he soon left, as we were left imagining the terrifying final moments of the 4 wheeled freind. The thought of getting stuck behind a railroad block and being left defenseless on the track. Its heart breaking. 

He actually swung back by after collecting the parts and pieces in the back of his bike trailer. He asked if anyone wanted to see it. I made my way out to pay my respects.

I have heard of people hitting the little guys with their cars when they cross the street. And that makes me so sad and a little angry. What kind of person would destroy something just to destroy it?

But a train.

Well thats fate. nothing we could have done. wrong place at the wrong time. tragedy of the highest making. Godspeed, little buddy.

That is all for today. 

Goodnight friends, 

Calvin Landreth