The Glitch
The Mind Longs to Know, the Heart Longs to Feel, the Soul Longs to Connect
“When do we turn back?”
He turned to look at me, and I saw his neon pink eyes with their deep indigo pupils, glowing like a street sign. “What do you mean, turn back?”
The road ahead was illuminated with 80’s vapor-wave hues, and lined with digital palm trees. In the sky were a thousand pixel-sized stars against a black-blue sky. We were speeding through this world in a car that shimmered in the moonlight with electric chrome colors, but its interior was dark like an unlit street at night. On either side of my vision were tiny readouts about what lay ahead: the distance traveled, the width of the road, and the quality of its gravel. There was no poetry anymore, I’d decided long before that day. Perhaps once, there were things you could say about the world besides quantitative facts, but now all you ever heard was information, cold and measurable.
“We’ve been traveling for-” I checked my watch, embedded in my pink and silver gauntlet, “1700 simulation years. That’s almost 45 real-world days. There’s nothing out here! Nothing but these palm trees and this endless road. So, when do we turn back?”
“We turn back when we find what we’re looking for,” he answered, turning his neon pink eyes back to the…
