Screaming white noise. Pitch black darkness.
What a way to be greeted into a new day.
Aiden felt around for the edge of his cardboard mattress. Beyond its frayed borders buried among the food scraps and his few discarded clothes was the nectar he craved. The withdrawal was intense as the nanobots issued their friendly warning that his addiction needed feeding for him to stay alive.
Fumbling around in the detritus of his life he found his last vial of nanobot nectar and gulped it down.
A pinpoint of bright light appeared. Then another. And another. And another. He blinked. The nanobots were working. A gradual shift from the oppressive white noise to the welcoming sounds of a city about its daily business.
As his sight returned he noticed the clock on the house control unit in which his robot waited while he slept.
‘Jessie. Why didn’t you wake me? I told you – 7am.’ Continue reading
‘Alexa. Who is the most popular person in the world?’ asked Nicole, even though she knew how her resident bot would respond because she was and had been for the past few years.
As she rubbed her daily dose of face cream into her skin she cringed at how old and wrinkled she’d become. Thank goodness she didn’t have to show her face to her public any more, one of the great things about being a social media star.
The blue ring around the top of the bot lit up. ‘Gamila.’
Slowly, Nicole screwed the lid on to the pot of cream and placed it on the shelf. This was a moment she had prepared for many times over the years, the moment when someone else became more popular than her.
‘Alexa. Show me Gamila.’ Continue reading
Where was that bloody delivery drone?
He’d been waiting for three hours, from the moment he’d woken up.
How many times would he have to stay at home on the promise that his new eyes would be arriving that day?
Okay, so he’d not chosen guaranteed next day delivery but at the time he’d ordered them his eyes still had a good four weeks left in them. And, yes he’d been a bit casual about making sure he was there to sign for them, but the more critical it was getting the less the company seemed to want to help.
They insisted a drone had been at his door every day, but he’d been there most days. It was a load of rubbish. They just didn’t care.
And now they couldn’t guarantee delivery. A knock-on effect of the Christmas rush, apparently.
The light faded a little. His eyes were on their last legs, so to speak.
If he didn’t get his new ones soon his vision would cease and no matter how many replacements they delivered he wouldn’t be able to see to install them. Continue reading