The Lost Years-Fiction?

I sat on my cot wondering if and when the alarm that buzzed in my head would ever turn off and realized that it wasn’t the one permanently implanted in my brain by the others but that it was my doorbell.  “Who the fuck is ringing me up at 4 in the fucking morning” I wondered aloud, all the while moving slowly toward the point in the wall where it would open and reveal to me the unwelcome visitor.

Let me clarify, I am not from this world, I’m from a point in time where grass was green, sky blue, water palatable and the world was about to be torn into shreds. I was exported through a portal on my 54th birthday at the corner of 18th and Vine in what was known as The Jazz District in a place called Kansas.

Today is my 55th birthday in that time, but in this time I’m 355 years old and don’t look a day over 54 even if I do say so myself.  I am in a prison of sorts, on the dark side of the moon buried some 400 meters into the moons core. I have want or need for food, drink or it seems sleep nowadays. I have lost days, weeks and years wondering why I’m here, why they keep coming to me day in and out. Probing my memories,  asking questions about the time frame, what do they want? I have not seen another human being for what seems to be centuries, only replicates, silently moving about my existence, with questions, always questions and silly as it seems, I answer them in net speak…it confuses them, confounds them, antagonizes them…

“Lolz mang, you totes look too adorbs in your hoodie.. holla at a playa and lets go peep some thirsty twerks and blow a few blunts” I mumble in a voice that parrots the valley mentality of a 17 year old high school drop out  as the panel opens and the droid looks at me with sunken metallic eyes and in that very sexy Siri voice asks me ” Are you having a good day? It’s time for our memory chat”

I heave whats left of whatever is in my stomach on its replicated AirJordans and fall into the soft chair , clear my throat and ask for a glass of water…I’ve completely lost my mind. or am I just dreaming… again

 

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