Lixy
In Denial That I Have an Internet Addiction
Interest Check
It is far into the future. The year is not important. You are trying to cross a street. A sky bridge, to be specific. You are high in the air, the bridge connecting one of the thousands and thousands of identical skyscrapers to another of the thousands and thousands of identical skyscrapers. The one behind you holds the artificial park space. The one in front of you holds your tiny single-patron room. The room that holds two of you, illegally. The only problem is, you have to cross the street. It is dark. The smart-cars come, left-to-right, right-to-left. You can't remember how fast they go. 100? 200km/h? It doesn't matter. They are fast. Without a chip in your wrist, the automatic crossing won't trigger. The cars won't stop. The barrier won't come up. Sometimes, during the day, someone else will trigger the crossing, and you walk behind them. But it is dark. You will have to cross on your own. You've had to do this since the day you were born. Your mother could not afford a chip. You are illegal. Your father's visa was revoked, deported back to his home country, where he is likely dead, prosecuted. You are double-illegal. But today, today is your lucky day. You don't know how, you don't know why, but today, the cars stop. The barrier comes up. The crossing has been triggered. You have a dead woman's chip in your fist. You cross the street.
It is far into the future. The year is not important. You are trying to cross a street. A sky bridge, to be specific. You are high in the air, the bridge connecting one of the thousands and thousands of identical skyscrapers to another of the thousands and thousands of identical skyscrapers. The one behind you holds the artificial park space. The one in front of you holds your tiny single-patron room. The room that holds two of you, illegally. The only problem is, you have to cross the street. It is dark. The smart-cars come, left-to-right, right-to-left. You can't remember how fast they go. 100? 200km/h? It doesn't matter. They are fast. Without a chip in your wrist, the automatic crossing won't trigger. The cars won't stop. The barrier won't come up. Sometimes, during the day, someone else will trigger the crossing, and you walk behind them. But it is dark. You will have to cross on your own. You've had to do this since the day you were born. Your mother could not afford a chip. You are illegal. Your father's visa was revoked, deported back to his home country, where he is likely dead, prosecuted. You are double-illegal. But today, today is your lucky day. You don't know how, you don't know why, but today, the cars stop. The barrier comes up. The crossing has been triggered. You have a dead woman's chip in your fist. You cross the street.
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