by Tom Ball


Then I dreamt of skating on thin ice and it cracked and I went under and drowned.

Next thing I remember was I was awake walking down the street of some foreign city.

It was hard to die.

You had to be very clever to kill yourself irrevocably and even then the Supreme Computers had an updated copy of your mind, but it was rumored if you really wanted to die they’d allow it. Such as continuing to OD on drugs.

I met people with glass instead of skull bones and looked positively alien.  So too their guts were transparent.

Everyone was in virtual reality and defended themselves with virtual missiles.  Crazy missiles which moved erratically and hugged the surface for the most part.  And the missiles were invisible…

It was all about power. Everyone was given a limit of electricity and other powers…

Finally I tried everything in the dreams to die, but I couldn’t, the super computers kept regenerating me complete with memories.

I want to die, I said, when I awoke from the dream.

So they sentenced me to another month of bad dreams.

Psycho-analysis: It’s easy to kill yourself and be weak.  But the strong survive. You need to toughen up.

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