On our first date, CC and I meet on a floating platform suspended in the middle of a distant galaxy. As with much space travel, we experience a few technical difficulties. CC – as they’ve asked to be called – is supposed to be a rabbit, but they look to me like a small animated girl in a hoodie with large cat ears and a tail. My voice is on a delay that disrupts the natural flow of conversation. And for several minutes, my body – that of a lanky blonde woman in a cropped puffer jacket and leggings – crawls around in a half-squat, like a terrier looking for the right spot to relieve itself.
“I’m sorry,” I hear my voice say a couple of seconds after I had actually apologised. “I don’t know why this is happening.”
