A ciber girl from the new age, she is expected to be. She knows how her electro sensorial wires, devices and appliances attach. From her head and heart all the way down to her feet, the pretty left one and the other one that the set completes. Automated emotions, simple repetitive reactions; the buttons to press are predetermined, no surprises expected. She is the master of her own creation. Yet, there she stands trying to analyze her unusual recent behavior. The silly comment that came out of nowhere, that answer she kept to herself. Why did she stand there and stared, trying to figure out this person performing in front of her, struggling to find the common points for connection, isn’t this supposed to be very human-like. Artificially built intelligence, naturally, fails to comprehend the business of the heart and the spontaneous life. Shaking her head, she resets and rebounds from this autopilot state. Now, she is back on those feet that redirect all kinds of electromagnetic feelings throughout all those nerves efficiently assembled in her body. Religion and politics are said to be non-recommended conversational directives in the world of the bartender. Rules are made to be disobeyed. Agitated passion shared against the reigns of the unfair initiating a spark in a brief encounter. The rhythm of hearts aligned till the end of this inner fight nurtured by some to defeat injustice. The world, a wonderful place that has become a great mess. Tapping beers, pouring wine, it’s the way she remains attached to the life that she once knew, a simple life with its simple social arrangements. Sit down and unwind while I serve you the drink you like. The one you will not even need to command. We have never met before, but, in a way, I know who you are. Someone like me, with your things and your different dreams but, still, with a heart that beats, just like mine beats.
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Ciber girl. Short-story from 12 o’clock-tales and after hours thoughts.