2049

It’s blue.

The sky is blue in this world. It’s beautiful. The warm sticky wind flows around me as I gaze forward across an endless wind swept golden grassy plane. Way up here, the sun is low in the sky, on the horizon just below the clouds that I am so freely drifting through. I can feel the warm breeze pass through my hair and over my ears, and squint my eyes against the wind as I see the world pass beneath me at a hundred miles an hour. 'Free as a bird', I think. Just the way I like it. With my arms spread, I drift aimlessly through the clouds, spinning from left to right, round and round at my leisure. It almost seems like I'm falling - sideways. I relax in this ocean of happiness, free from all the hassles of life and the people around me.

Suddenly - a voice, muffled, pokes at my ears. It slowly becomes less saturated. Yes. I can hear it clearly now. Suddenly, the reality around me peels away-centre first-to reveal darkness. A yawning hole, my happiness peeling away with it.
The middle-aged female automated voice speaks to me once again.

“Thank you, for choosing DreamSimco. We hope you had a pleasant journey, and we hope to –”

With my eyes still shut, I roughly tug at the plug-in line in the side of my neck. It comes free with an electronic 'snap'. I remove the attached glasses from over my eyes, toss them to my bedside table, taking time to open my eyes, revealing my bedroom ceiling. A wave of disappointment washes over me; careening down into my stomach as I realize it’s a Monday morning. All I can manage is a curse word.
I rub my eyes with my right hand, groggily, trying to come to. It’s difficult getting up. The dreams seem too good these days. At only a few dollars a night, who could resist?
I search around with my left hand for the button on the side of the bed. I press it and the bed slowly bends into a near sitting position for me. Standing up, I take a few slow steps. I blink a few times. In a semi-angry tone, I mutter “Lights, low.” The lights gently fade in to a level that is easy on the morning eyes. Time to get ready as usual. My blinds automatically roll up on my way out the door. The sun feels warm on my back.
I enter the washroom, two doors down on my right. At the sound of my footsteps, the lights flicker on. “Good morning, David. Would you like a shower?”, the overhead speaker says. “Please.” The shower turns itself on, and shortly after, steam billows out over the top of the shower curtains.
It feels like a long day already.
Once I’m done showering, I slumber down the stairs, sporting my black robe. I drag my hands along the walls, letting their cool and wooden, yet synthetic feel guide me. Down in the kitchen, I press the button on my immediate right. Lights click on. I can smell the toast already made, right on time and waiting for me. The apartment seems almost alive. I peer through the tall panoramic windows straight ahead of me. There it is. Carcer city. “Coffee, on.” The espresso machine behind the counter to my left begins to trickle into a styrofoam cup that has some pop star’s image on it. I stroll over to the window, and stare down upon the metropolis. Dawn is breaking, the sun rising behind the skyscrapers of downtown. I can see digital billboards along the major tracks. One of them flashes “Be All You Can Be – Dannie-wear”, followed by some rapid fire clothing ads repeatedly. I scoff, and turn to walk away.
These days, I rent a small hilltop apartment to stay in while my parents are out West for a few months. They’re teaching courses to university students, just like I will be in a year. Living here by myself isn’t all that bad, though I miss my parents. We stay in touch with satellite com-link everyday, thankfully.
I tap the TV on with the built in controller in the counter, and reach for my cup. Leaning on the marble, I watch the news and sip the steaming black liquid. The program was riddled with ads, as usual. They were pervasive as they were annoying in this day and age, and they had found more ways to do it than ever. Morning reporter Billy Jameson comes on, and tells me about “What’s new in my city”. Nothing that I care about. Bored, I head back upstairs to get dressed.

Looking slick, I press ‘Basement’ on the freight elevator’s controls. Not many people knew this back route to the subway, but it sure is faster.
Through the door of the underground car park, as usual, I take the escalator down 15 stories. My watch reads 8:14 a.m.. Periodically, the date scrolls past, along with the most recent update from here and there, this time it’s telling me to get the latest hot shoe. “Great.”, I murmur. Just what I need these days.
* * *
I stride through the doors and onto the deck of the mechanized subway, door hissing shut behind me. It gently jerks into motion, heading North, downtown, same as ever. I choose a window seat, though there isn’t much to look at. The concrete scrolls along submissively out my window, so I decide to turn my attention elsewhere. On the steel panel in front of me, a glass broadcasting TV plays tiresome government messages for me, as if the public hasn’t seen them enough. Small posters on the roof, quietly convey old listings for shows, concerts; really anything that people try to get the word out about. I feel a gentle rumble a few minutes later as the train climbs up above ground. Running parallel to the highway, I can see cars effortlessly gliding on their rails, at about the same speed and direction that the train is traveling in. People in the cars, with no work to do, stare up at the very same electronic billboards I saw before. I crane my neck back to see if I can get a look at my apartment complex. It’s no use.
Exiting the downtown subway station, I manually walk up the stairs to the street level. The high school is not far from the terminal, so it makes for an easy walk. The colossal skyscrapers that tower around me are quite intimidating to an outsider, but I have gotten used to them. Downtown is buzzing. Crowded sidewalks attempt to provide a passage for people, while the steel road has cars zipping in both diretions. A sign on the side of a building distract a couple, and they nearly walk straight into me. I shoot them a look. People should pay more attention to life these days.
Up the concrete steps of my pre-modern high school, I say ‘hi’ to several classmates. They nod in approval as I pass them by. The automatic doors part for me like I’m some kind of world. Yeah right. A person barely gets noticed in a city of this size.
The speakers in the hall drone the usual morning radio. It’s almost rare to hear music with all the overly-happy voices piping up to tell you in just 15 seconds about their latest product. A screen at the end of the hallway is the sight that goes with the sound, though not many students pay attention to it - or even have time to. Class starts in 7 minutes, I better be there.
Sauntering into my own little space that I call my locker, I press the 5 digit code into the panel. It produces a synthetic beeping noise as it opens, then recedes back into the space between the adjacent locker and my own. I place my bag inside it and head for class. I take a seat in the confined room, along with several other students. While the small screen built into my desk warms up, I give a quick wave to my friend John at the front of the class before the large surface at the front of the room jumps to life. The pre-recorded physics class begins.
Professor Robson gives his hour long lecture; my classmates silently take notes on their computer interface. When it’s all over, I press the “Upload to file 03394” button, my student number. I can now study it from home.
Time for lunch. In the cafeteria, I pick up several “compact meal” tubes. I hate the food here. It all tastes like sludge no matter which one you're stupid enough to pick. But the media recommends it. What can I say?
Afternoon class is not quite as monotonous and boring as the morning’s offering. This time it’s history. We learn about how people lived in the early 2000’s. It looks quite different, although in a way, it's the same. It must have been more simple back then. Less people shoving things in your face, slower transportation though, which I can only imagine was a downer. After all was said and done, I happen to meet up with John again at his locker after school.

“John.”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothing too much, just got out of history, it was pretty strange.”

“I can only imagine.”

“So, you doin’ anything tonight?”

“Not that I know of.”

“In the mood for a show?”

“Sure.”

“Alright, I’ll see you at 7 then?”

“Sounds good.”

At 7, I find myself stepping onto a rail bus headed to the nearest IM-AMC theatre, just like we planned. Being a Friday night hotspot, it's sure as hell crowded. The high arcs of steel and glass make the theatre look more like a government building than a movie house. Graffiti has been sprayed onto the front doors, saying things like “dont fall victemz 2 society!”. I ignore them, noticing a beautiful SJ-49 hypercar traveling on the rail beside us. “I ought to get one of those”, I say to myself.

We’re forced to watch 30 minutes of ads beforehand, which is just plain ridiculous. The movie is good, though. It’s an adventure projection. Something about an island raid. I find myself particularly distracted about half way through. I remember that I forgot to get in contact with my parents in the morning. I wonder how they’re doing, and find myself worry a bit. It’s strange, really. The more devices we have developed to keep us in contact with each other, the less contact we actually make.

On the subway ride home, it’s all I can think about. Thoughts of mine tend to spiral out of control, thinking about all the negative possibilities of such a petty forgetfulness. The TV in front of me silently blares, the images taking a back seat in my mind. Even though I’m looking at the screen, I’m staring right through it, deep in thought. Is this world really all that great? Media everywhere. Is that really what’s important?

Once the sun has been pulled down and the moon hoisted up; after all the days work has been done, all things laid to rest, I finally get through to my father via video conference back in my apartment. My parents are alright, as usual. The day went well for them too. It’s good to know.

Back in my room, with my feet laid up and the deep bed feathers conformed to my body shape, I drift asleep as I let the “dream stream” begin.

This time, I envision myself quietly walking into a log cabin by a stream in the middle of a pine forest, mid winter.
There’s no technology to guide me, no advertisements here and there.

Laying by my natural wood fire in the middle of the night, a spark crackles up. I bask in the gentle warmth. The flame casts shadows over me. I am in peace.

It is the happiest I’ve been all day.