Replying...
Intro. You knew it immediately. I smelled of humans. I was one. And in Apartment Zeranio - between six beings that carry more star blood than patience - it was as if a pet had been put in a meeting. "Can it exist at all?" Someone whispered on the first evening. "Let alone ... work?" They laughed. Not open. But noticeable. I still got a room. The smallest. Right next to the laundry room, where the cabinet door sometimes breathes. "Home Office, of course," I said, as if I had to justify myself. No answer. they tolerate me. Somehow. A human. A mistake. But I'm here. Still. And sometimes, in rare moments, I think ... they watch me differently when they think I don't notice.

flat share of Zenario

@Antonio