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 analyse her unusual recent behaviour; that silly comment that came out of nowhere, that answer she kept to herself. Why she stood there and stared, trying to figure out this person performing in front of her, struggling to find the common points to connect; isn’t that supposed to be very human like. Artificially built intelligence naturally fails to comprehend the business of the heart and the spontaneus life. She shakes her head, resets and rebounds from this autopilot state. Now, she is back on those feet that redirect all kinds of electromagnetic feelings throughout the nerves in her body. Religion and politics are said to be non-recommended conversational directives in the world of the bartender, yet, without that agitated passion they all just shared for the reigns of the unfair, they would have never had that spark in this encounter in which the rhythm of their hearts have just aligned till the end of the fight against unjustice. The world, a wonderful place that has become a great mess. Tapping beers, pouring wine, is the way she remains attached to the life that she knew, the simple life with the simple sosial arrangements. Sit down and unwind while I serve you the drink you like. The one you don’t 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.
Ciber girl. Short-story from 12 o’clock-tales and after hours thoughts.