Gina sat in a chair, glaring at her son over crossed arms, slowly tapping her foot. The fact it did not make any noise just added to her irritation.
“You really thought this was a good idea, yes?”
She leaned forward, her legs partly sinking through the chair as she lost sight of it.
“I thought once you moved out you’d learn to stand on your own feet, but you’ve kept bothering me to tell you what to do for the last forty years.”
“But mum, you’re the wisest person ever. I need you.”
“Good god, Quentin, I don’t know what I did wrong, but you’re such a failure. If even me dying didn’t give you the push you needed…” She shook her head.
He was close to tears, and the technician took the initiative to switch off the projector.
“Sir, maybe we should adjust her self a little. It would be no problem to remove the awareness of being a hologram.”
“Ah. No. Not right now, anyway. I’ll think about it.”