Good Morning, Future

I woke from the most excellent dream this morning (and not the one where I narrowly escaped a French Communist assassin’s bullet, appeared on CNN, then had beers with Frank Sinatra)…

It was the future. The world was a construct of The Company, an oppressive technocracy that synthesized and mediated everything. Nothing was real, but instead a construct of The Company. My brother and I worked for the Rogue Agency, tolerated, nay, sanctioned to operate on the fringes.

The Company was building a massive energy generator in the mountains near The Rogue Headquarters. Huge cooling towers reached for the sky. And the surrounding hills were paved in a synthetic glaze that The Company had not yet licensed us to operate on. And so our boots — like electric snow shoes or skis — could not tread there.

So we broke into The Company, and Chris hacked our way in, altering the very fabric of reality so they we could move forward. We got ourselves to The Headquarters, gathered our team, and moved out to rescue our comrades who were stuck elsewhere in the technosphere. Some of our teammates commented on my gear: I was wearing unsanctioned “old school” equipment: a fedora and aviator sunglasses — far to retro for The Company.

Later that night, as the tears in the fabric of The Company crackled and spit blue sparks, I climbed out of our basement Headquarters to find that The Company had again altered our synthetic world, paving everything in an unpassable white glaze. A note was taped to the door that said I could not pass. I reached for a small matter transforming gun — a glue gun, really — and started firing at the perfect white glaze, melting and crackling the very fabric of reality in small places. Then broke out.

But I saw Her there in the molten, torn fabric of time. I saw Her in the future. And hence, disrupted the very fabric of the space/time continuum. And so it was all over the news. Everything in the future was changed: world leaders were falling, news bulletins were breaking into network programming to announce the aberration I had created. Everything was altered.

I began to disappear.

Somehow, my brother hacked into the future, and reversed everything.

I woke this morning to this image: I was walking out of the inky-black, star-filled sky, with Her. And I woke this morning singing:

Everything is illuminated
I ruminated all night long

Good morning, future.