by Carol Krause
Support Into the Void by reading this piece in a beautiful print edition of Issue #18 that’ll look great on your bookshelf.
don’t hide from me, they said. it was thirty-two years from now. and they
had finally figured out how to fix people. at least the people they decided
were broken. i crouched low and pretended they didn’t see me. but they
did. they had gloves on. and their name was written in bold letters on
their glowing business cards. they told me the future is friendly. as they
carried a giant net in their spinning hands. we only want to help, they
insisted. i tried not to fall into their giant eyes and invisible mouths. i don’t
want your help, i mustered. then ducked within myself. it won’t hurt a
bit, they said. and it didn’t. they took part of me with them. and they said
this wasn’t stealing. it was progress. when i awoke, there was a band aid on
my brain. and a tag around my wrist. the part of me that was missing had
disappeared. you won’t need that anymore, i heard them say. even though
they were gone. and they were right. i didn’t need it anymore. i didn’t even
remember what they had stolen. after that, i was able to live in their world
more easily. travel across the city. cook for myself. have a conversation about
the weather. but sometimes when i looked up at the sky, i remembered. it’s
hard to describe what it is i felt. but the whole world was pulsing through
my veins. and for three whole seconds, i loved what they labeled insane.
Carol,
This is a great piece of sci-fi flash in that many of the tendencies of the increasingly technologically compliant point towards a future in which all humans in society are homogenized, & bereft of creativity & imagination.
Power to the poet!!