14/30

fraud democratic bolster photomontage yearning strawberry Toronto cullers nebulae mascara submarine foliage icons virus

questionnaire sole dynamics atop inconceivably yellowish litany hibernated blissfully whoa veranda aural fleeced tally

She popped out from behind the pillar like some kind of clipboard-wielding ninja. Before I could avoid her, she flashed a smile that was just a little too warm filled with teeth just a little too white and said, “Hello, John, you’re late and we’re behind schedule. After the test you’ll need to fill out a small questionnaire.” 

“How small?”

“It only takes 20 minutes, besides, you know the drill better than anyone.”

“Okay, what’s this one about?”

“You know I can’t tell you. You’ll have to experience it without any preconceived notions.”

She led me to a small room off the main concourse and walked me into another even smaller room that contained only a chair and a table. She told me to sit down, then handed me what looked like two stickers and told me to place one on the sole of each shoe. I thought it was weird, but what did I have to lose? Then she gave me a pair of glasses that looked like the kind of sunglasses that old people wear over their normal glasses. There was a label on one of the side pieces that read “Visual Dynamics”. On one part of the floor there was a rectangular area about the size of a shower mat that looked like it was made of copper. She told me to put the glasses on and stand on the rectangle and that the video would start in a moment. Then she left.

A few seconds later I was standing atop a high mesa overlooking the ocean. Below, the bluest water I had ever seen was crashing on the shores of a pristine beach with sand that looked as white as salt. I could hear the water, along with a few sea birds and felt the warm breeze. I could even smell the sea. It was inconceivably real. The sky was clear, the yellowish sun sinking toward the horizon. And then I was back in the room. She came back in.

“That was amazing! How does it…”

“Please John, no questions yet.” She handed me another set of glasses, repeated her earlier instructions and left again. There was so much I wanted to know; the litany of questions was piling up fast.

I was atop the mesa again, only this time it was night. The waves still lapped the shore, but gently now. I still smelled the water, but there was no wind and the sky was filled with stars as if the sun had long since hibernated, only to return when we could no longer stand to look toward the cosmos. Instead of just looking around, I wanted to move. I looked to my feet and discovered that I had been blissfully unaware of the precarious nature of my vantage point. Directly beneath my feet, the rock fell away to blackness. That sudden realization startled me and a “Whoa!” jumped out of me like a reflex. I was already too caught up in the experience to remember that it was virtual. I took a step back and turned around. About twenty meters behind me was an island house. She was standing on the veranda looking at me. 

“So, what do you think?”

“I think this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen!”

“It is, isn’t it. We call it ‘The View’. We’re still working on the arual interface; it’s not perfect yet, but it’s close. It works by reading your subconscious thoughts. It takes you where you want to go without you making a conscious choice. But it also lets you have conscious input, like you’re doing now.”

“How much are consumers going to get fleeced to have one of their own?”

“That’s for marketing to decide. Besides, this is a crude prototype. The goal is to embed the final product into the nervous system. You’ll have your very own virtual world available at your whim. The possibilities are truly endless, not just for recreation, but for learning, spirituality, and those with mental disorders. Now, let’s get back to work so I can tally your responses. I still have lots of reports to write.”

I don’t know how long I’ve been in this little room. I don’t even know if I’m still standing on that rectangle. And I don’t care.