“Unto Dusk, Unto Light”
A Fictional Tale
The road ahead was long, the sky was geo-engineered to a pale blue, with white lines of chemical goo billowing out into what cheesy meteorologists would claim was a spiffy new cloud that had just been given a name.
It wasn’t too hot, nor too cold, it was just damp. Damp like the palms of your hands get when you’re going to the wizard in the white lab coat for the diagnosis of the lump in your throat, but this time that lump is caused by going down the road for the mandatory, semi-annual injection of chemicals to keep you healthy. You have unacceptable thoughts about all those chemicals being healthy for you, but you’re learning to quell those type of thoughts as you get a neat little pin prick into your brain, complements of the microchip located in the fleshy mound between your thumb and forefinger that you’ve come to name “little shit”.
You’ve been quarreling of late with your government provided AI sex partner because, as you’ve just been informed by the Pleasure Authorities, they were only programmed to provide sex for one year due to some snafu. It now walks around your 300 square foot apartment naked, except for some type of 5G militarized medallion around their neck that sends a neat little jolt of electricity directly to your sexual organs or other pleasure zones on your body if you come within 5 feet of it. So now, you’re just left to argue with it about what you should eat for dinner.
You are sometimes allowed to have some of your memories unblocked and wonder what happened to your partner, your love, your main squeeze before the “Great Eradication” took place. You wonder if they were truly eradicated, or simply one of the lucky ones, as you and the one friend you are allowed to have, conjecturing they were sent to Iceland to live out their lives, after being deemed beyond reprogramming due to having untreatable amounts of love, spirit, kindness and compassion. Why you think this, you have no idea.
You arrive at the clinic for the injection and the AI robot asks how you’re feeling. You tell it that you haven’t felt well for a long time now, suffering from all kinds of flu’s, nervous system disorders, insomnia, and other illnesses. It pokes the needle into your arm and tells you that the injections are working just as they were designed, and to have a nice day.
Into to the AI driven car in route back to your apartment, you are hoping that your AI sex partner was reassigned after you complained to the Pleasure Authorities at its’ lack of interest in sex, and that would free you up to order a cheese pizza from the Nourishment Center located in your apartment complex – cheese pizza’s being the only ones offered, as the eating of any kind of meat had been banned long ago.
You walk into your apartment, the 3 monitors blink on, and ask you if your injections went well, and also advises that your new sex partner will arrive tomorrow, or if you choose, you can opt out and instead have an AI robot dog. You opt out for the dog because the sex was utterly boring, as it was programmed to be.
You tell the monitor to order you a cheese pizza. It advises it has been approved but reminds you that you can only order one pizza each week so this will be it for the next 7 days.
You check in with your one friend to see if they might like to take a walk a bit later in the one block area of the complex designated as a national park. The monitor clicks on and you see him listening to his AI sex rebot telling him what to have for dinner. You have a flash of a thought of how you were before the Great Eradication and tell the monitor to “fuck off”.
At that precise moment, you find yourself being swept from your apartment, into a swirling vortex of light, swiftly deposited to a land with fjords before your eyes. There are no buildings to be seen, only nature, in its purest. You look up and see a beautiful deep blue sky, with the scent of evergreen filling your nostrils.
That fleshy part above your thumb stings a bit, and you instinctively start to rub it, only to realize the little shit is gone.
How can this be, you wonder. What has happened?
And angel of light descends from the sky. It hovers over you, not in a menacing way but with gentleness, care and love.
“What has happened,” you ask.
“You said no,” the angel replies.
“No, I didn’t. I said f…..”
“We know what you said… close enough.”
Tonight’s musical offering:
Matej Meštrović, Piano – Kristina Bjelopavlović Cesar, Piano – Borna Šercar, Drums – Brahms, Hungarian Dance No. 5 (3 minutes of musical fun)