Lament for the Toys of J. F. Sebastian

Sebastian: I make friends. They're toys. My friends are toys. I make them. It's a hobby. I'm a genetic designer. Do you know what that is?
Pris: No.
Sebastian: Yoo-hoo, home again.
Toys: Home again, home again, jiggity jig. Good evening, J. F.
Sebastian: Good evening, fellas.
— Blade Runner

Whatever happened to J. F. Sebastian's toys?
You know: the toys he made, who would greet him
every time he came home, saying "Good evening, J.F.?"
Now that J. F. is dead, those toys are waiting for someone
who will never show up.
Are they like Vladimir and Estragon,
Waiting for a Godot who never comes?
Or perhaps they are like us,
waiting for the Second Coming,
and no matter how terrible it gets, He never shows up?
A Rapture that never occurs?
The toys, no matter how long they last, will never lament J. F.'s passing.
They will never grieve his absence.
I envy them.

Jean Jones graduated with a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Bowling Green State University and currently teaches English as a Second Language in Basic Skills for Cape Fear Community College in Wilmington, NC.

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