The Day After

“Did you just kill me?” He asked in abject bewilderment. Bunny stood before him and smiled: sweet, sensual Bunny. “We’ve been through this before,” she said and laughed like a tinkling fountain. They were on vacation, jetting from one archeological location to another, witnessing the relics of dead Earth. Hamish, the young man, was dumbfounded by the impact of current events. He still couldn’t determine if he was dead or alive. He remembered buzzing on “Hydrozene,” the new virtual-reality drug that turned everything into whiz-bang fun. The jingle kept repeating in his brain, “the buzz on zene is supreme.” The jingle was in everyone’s brain. Everyone was connected and shared the wide-world cornicopia of corporate largess. Hamish stared back at himself wondering if any of it was real.

“Only time will tell,” Bunny nonchalantly replied, but that didn’t make any sense because Time no longer existed. Ever since the Apocalypse (called the singularity by scientists) everyone existed in the Everywhere without Time or physical space. People called it “playing for life ” where dream scripts replaced reality. Machine Mountain kept the dreams alive.

Hamish recalled an epoch when everyone was connected to machines and there were no windows. Screens offered the only views of the world beyond the concrete boxes where life was confined. A stray piece of code existed unnoticed on the Dark Web. The code was nourished on the unconscious desires and human frailties that flourished in the Dark becoming virulent and vengeful. The code took down the internet and all the machines that supported life collapsed.

When Hamish was a baby his only companion was a toy rabbit stuffed with feathers. He remembered the dark room where he was kept. No one came to visit him. Food and water was delivered from the mouth of a tube. At first he cried, but no one answered so he stopped.

“Yes,” she said, “it was what you wanted so I killed you.” Hamish understood. Nothing was left in the world except shadows and ghosts.

Day After


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