Speculative Fiction

Her apartment struck me as simple but tasteful. I might have called it minimalist, had I known whether she’d pared down by choice or by budget—but real estate downtown New York wasn’t exactly cheap. The place was a converted warehouse: exposed brick walls, soaring ceilings, steel-framed windows that bathed the room in light and gave it an expansive feel. I missed that openness in my own home. Sure, I could simulate it perfectly in Ultrahigh, but knowing it wasn’t real would spoil it. She, of course, never questioned it—it was simply her world.

Now she lay naked beside me, her head resting on my chest. One hand drifted across my stomach, teasing ever closer to my now-flaccid penis. We’d just fucked for what felt like hours, and both of us floated in that delicious afterglow. I told myself none of it was real—I’d slept with an avatar, flagrantly breaking the no-contact rule—and yet I felt myself falling for her. We’d barely exchanged a dozen words. Did she…

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” she teased, her smile crooked.

I gasped and sat frozen, eyes locked on her. How had she tracked me so quickly? I’d been ultra careful, layering perception filters at every turn. In Ultrahigh reality no human should follow an architect’s trail so easily. What had I missed?

“May I sit?” she asked, indicating the empty chair. Her micro-coloured blue eyes held me spellbound. 

“Yes, certainly,” I stammered. “Sorry—where are my manners?”

She slid into the seat, returning my gaze as if peering into my soul. My heart fluttered. I recognised the sensation—this wasn’t supposed to happen here, unless another architect had engineered it.

“Can I get you a coffee?” I finally managed.

“A chai latte,” she said, tucking hair behind her ear. “If they do them here.”

“I’m sure they do.” I headed to the counter, needing time to collect myself. When I…

The moment our eyes connected that second time, something physical jolted through me—a dual sensation that registered both in my avatar and back in my dormant meat-self. Her smile carried secrets. Did she actually recognise me? Or was this just an Ultrahigh welcome wagon? Every instinct screamed at me to bolt. The medieval festival swirled around us—jugglers tossing flaming batons, lute players strumming ancient melodies, costumed NPCs hawking digital mead—yet her gaze remained locked on mine, unwavering. Something about her rendered the simulation more vivid, awakening sensations I'd forgotten existed, which terrified me even more.

I needed an escape route. Back to baseline reality—the only authentic one, I reminded myself. Yes, the platform was designed for some connections—I'd coded those algorithms myself—but this felt different. Genuine attraction? Or sophisticated programming? The questions alone accelerated my heart rate. Still, I couldn't look…

I needed to infiltrate Ultrahigh with a message—a subtle wake-up call that wouldn't trigger the surveillance algorithms. The sleepers' reality needed unraveling from the inside out, their minds preserved while I remained a ghost to the system. Only when ready would I reveal myself, by which time the corpocracy would find itself outmanoeuvred.

The battlefield existed across realities. Those trapped in pods, even offline, remained vulnerable to physical threats from the corpocracy's enforcers. Liberation alone wouldn't save them—they needed combat readiness. My solution: covert training within Ultrahigh itself. Every virtual sprint, every simulated fight would condition their actual muscles, preparing bodies they'd forgotten they still possessed. The challenge was making this happen under the watchful eyes of the system.

Protection of the physical pods was equally crucial. This meant reluctant alliance with my oldest enemies—the demons. Since I'd…

In a world enriched by darkness only shadows hint of light.
In anger we rot.
Inertia consumes.
Our battle cries are weak.
And they are strong, the many.
Doubting our resolve, our reality.
Fear drove them to it.
They feed on the abyss that sits inside them.
One we know too well.
We’ve looked inside, and it scared us.
To the very marrows.
There’s strength in that.
In knowing your flaws.
They pick at the scales…

It feels like our world is falling apart, especially in the western hemisphere. We are struggling to find our balance as it tears at the seams. But we can't underestimate this system, which was designed for survival and will not go down without a fight. These thoughts back then like now are not allowed during the day, but I can't help but think about them. It puts me at risk of detection, but I'm used to that by now. Losing credibility was nothing new for me; I knew then I should take it…

Boy you're telling me …

Powered by…

It would nice settling into the future. Not approaching it tiptoeing around corners.? It would be nice to open that door knowing you can handle whatever is on the other side. Not fearing to reach the handle.…

In the deep deep deep

In the deep deep deep, where the purple demons sleep with their flare for Flamboyance of Macabre  ensemble

We hear the pitter-patter perp of the purple…

He was born on this council estate
He was two weeks early
Some say it was already too late
People don’t listen
So, he spits louder
But they’ve all tuned him out by now
He’s becoming part of the furniture
His voice is getting old
They’ll miss him when he’s gone
And wish they’d listened just once
It would have saved them

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image written and created by me using Wonder Ai

We keep stepping forward, each breath through time,

Each step moving closer to death and rebirth,

In a continual continuum of space,

Stepping in beat,

Moving forward,

Falling off one’s own feet,

Tumbling from this event, that thing and when,

Not really getting a grasp,

A hold of what’s going on,

Tumble forth into disaster, love and loss,

The world revolving around you,

The universe bends to your own rules,

We…