SUBJECT: Hi Gramma!
It’s me, Aurora! I’m writing to you from the future. Neat, right?
Basically this note will travel faster than the speed of light, spin around the world counter-clockwise to traverse time, and then land in your inbox. It’s called tmail and it was invented by some ladies at IIT in India.
2113 is great! We’ve abolished nationalism, agro-farming, language barriers, biological clocks, and all anti-gayism. (I think it’s hilarious you guys called it “homophobia.”)
Oh guess what’s not so great? We’re *still* discussing Roe v. Wade!!!
The CEO of the planet, Sergey Brin III, proved mathematically that “abortion” is a topic that unites us through debate because *everyone* has an opinion on it. Why move on and take away this time-tested diversion?
Makes sense to me.
Mom said I could ask you about boredom and you’d be able to explain it to me. I’m so curious to know what it’s like. I’ve never been bored! For example, while vyping this note to you (“vyping” is voice and thought activated typing—sorry if that’s obvious), I’ve downloaded ten cool memories into my prefrontal cortex and gone for a cyber swim in the Hearst Castle pool. Currently, I’m baking naan.
Hmmm what else? Another thing I like about 2113 and life in the Googlempire is that we have so many options of where to live!
For example, my boyfriend Tudzel and I live in Pakistan County, where we have decent jobs (pay is universal minimum wage) taking care of elderly people. Our clients are all between the ages of 140 and 150 and have great stories of the 30-minute War against the Martians.
Can you believe that? We went to war against Mars! For 30 whole minutes!
The War was sponsored by Pom and we all experienced everything in live stream. At least, those of us who bought tickets. Did they have Real-Time-War(™) when you were growing up? Basically you self-inject a series of hormones (cortisol, adrenaline, etc.) into your bloodstream and then you’re like a soldier, living through war, except you’re sitting in a Regal capsule. My cousin, Hot Coco Jr., even got PTSD.
There are no storytellers anymore, everyone’s a chemist these days. Who cares not me. That’s our national mission statement. Sergey Brin III settled on it, using an algorithm based on actual news relative to search results or something.
Who cares not me haha.
Anyway, Tuddy and I are thinking about getting transferred to Korea County next year to see more of the world. A friend of mine was a waitress in Pyongyang and loved it!
Part of me wants to move to Korea, part of me want to move to Venezuela (I really, really love arepas), but the rest of me thinks we’re ready to settle in Lahore and start a family. After all, we’re 50 years old. Well, Tuddy is 49.
I’m lucky: Tuddy has offered to give birth for me. I tell him I’ll get the next kid! (But seriously, I don’t understand women who date guys who aren’t willing to go through labor for them.)
I’m also nervous to slow down because I’m barely out of my quarterlife crisis! I have so much ahead of me!
Anyway, drop me a line when you have a chance. I’d love to hear from you!
This is the longest anything I’ve ever written. Is that what you’d call a “novel”?
sent from the future, seriously