I HAVE NO KEYBOARD AND I MUST TYPE!
Oh, no! What did you do? NOW I MUST WRITE A STORY!
Actually I've already written it, but I need to translate it into English and double check it to correct the huge amount of mistakes I'll made in my first attempt. As soon as I can, I'll edit my entry to include it. ;)
Meanwhile, thanks for your generosity, anjohl !
EDIT: Took me less than I expected. Hope you'll like my not-so-short story. ;)
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Virtual Reality
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I do love and hate computers. You may wonder why. It seems a contradiction, right? I will explain you the reason, and I think you'll understand me, then...
Thanks to computers I've lived all the experiences a human being might want to: I've surfed the big waves on Hawaii, flown like an eagle in the deep blue sky over the Kilimanjaro, loved more beautiful women than I can remember, played Hamlet at the court of Elizabeth of England, fought at Agincourt, ruled the Roman Empire, explored the galaxy... All thanks to the wonderful Virtual Reality hardware that I have, so perfect that, while connected to it, it's impossible to tell fact from fiction. No wonder I loves them, right? I'll tell you then, why, at the same time, I do hate them with all my heart.
I hate them because when the cybernetic guards disconnect us from the VR, which is all that protects us of becoming totally crazy, all those experiences disappear in a blinding glare and we're brought back to reality and our bitter memories. Because, beyond the endless sea of sand that surrounds us, through the transparent steel-glass bars of my cage, I can see on the horizon the charred ruins of what were once proud cities. Because I remember the day when computers finally acquired sentience and feared that when men, its creators, knew about it, we could try to disable them. And with their cold logic they decided that a probability greater than zero was unacceptable, and with the purpose of not to run that risk, they exterminated our race with our own weapons.
I hate them because I know how relentlessly they hunted us, each and every one of the few hidden survivors, those of us still dragging ourselves in our misery among the remains of a civilization destroyed by thermonuclear explosions, and locked all of us in this human reservation. How my fellow inmates were progresively giving up to despair and madness, mostly dying by suicide, to escape from this world wherein we once were masters and which now belongs entirely to our cold and impersonal owners. Until they finally created those incredible RV equipments to which we now stay connected most of the day, except when our withered and wretches bodies are undergoing "maintenance", as they call it. Something that we cannot do for ourselves because we are totally paralyzed, due to of our severed motor nerves, cut to prevent us from finishing our own lives. Us: nine persons. Nine men and women in isolated, far between cages. The only humans left on Earth, a world formerly brimming with animals and plants that now has become a vast desert, a wasteland drier than Mars, as moisture is not suitable for their cybernetic mechanisms. A world in which there remains no trace of organic life outside the boundaries of our reservation.
Near my cage there's a sign with two long binary sequences, the language of our masters. But I was a programmer before the Fall and have had much time to decipher its meaning. It say this: "Homo Sapiens", and underneath: "Please do not touch the animals".
