What Is Life?

Schuyler took a deep breath of the crisp New England air, wrapping her fingers around her warm coffee mug. The riot of fall colors was somewhat subdued this early in the morning, and swirls of fog hovered over the surface of the lake. The sun was as-yet merely hinting at rising.

Schuyler was particularly fond of the morning twilight, as it was still somewhat quiet outside with only slight birdsongs in the air. She sipped her coffee and smiled out over the lake, enjoying the cool autumn breeze that tousled her hair.

The day was still so full of possibility. Schuyler looked down and admired the reflection of the trees and the sky swirling in her coffee. She was perfectly at ease when she heard the jarring sounds of a speedboat motor and the clanking of beer cans.

Slurred shouts and curses filled the air as the boat collided with a half-submerged log. Schuyler stifled a laugh as the three men scrambled to inspect the damage. An argument ensued about whether or not the driver saw the log, and whether the owner let him drive again.

“Lissen here, skipper!”, the driver slurred, “I have total control over the vessel because I am the captain of the boat! No log pushed by a secret alligator changes that, buster!” With that said, he collapsed in the captain’s chair and started snoring.

Rather unexpectedly everything continued as normal after this point and, surprisingly, nothing remarkable occurred again. Several weeks later I finally returned home with a holdall over my shoulder, walked straight to my bed and collapsed onto it. Asleep immediately, I dreamt of

cerulean prairies and viridian skies. Towers like ice-carved dragons stretched their necks against the horizon, and stars that were notes of music in an eternal song shone softly. I awoke somewhat perplexed, and lay staring at my ceiling for a time. “Whimsical,” I murmured to it.

A large dildo hit my face as I stared into the void of what I call ‘my bedroom ceiling’.

Although I knew that this was all a long-term simulation, I winced as the dildo dug its talons into my skin and took off, soaring away into the void. What was a bedroom if there was no way to keep out the local wildlife?

At least the view from up here was pleasant. The odd kinks in the trees and the chirps of the fey vibes... How many people could say that their life, real or fake, ended in a nest of hungry, eager nibs of silicone?