E

By M.W. Pritchard

Johnny Kill is like everyone else; he works and lives in his Corpblock, plays Ebox in his spare time, and is well known for his retro film review site on E. He has the best new Com that he uses to live his life, buying, consuming, communicating, as everything is done on E. All that changes when his uncle, the man who raised him, dies. Johnny receives a letter from within his uncle’s belongings telling him to find something beyond the Internet, beyond E. Reluctantly, Johnny follows through with his uncle’s wishes, unsure of what he may find. He enters the world 'Inreal', the world of the physical. Leaving his Com behind (well, as much as he can...).
He finds a journal made of paper, a bleached book that he uses to chronicle his new life without E. Johnny thought there wouldn’t be anything when he unplugged. Could there really be anything missing, with E providing for every need? But he finds he couldn't have been more wrong; a world full of subcultures celebrating things you can only do physically: sex, coffee, drugs, cigarettes, bondage, and violence. A world ruled by the Blues, the physical laborers, Johnny becomes part of the subculture that has been hidden by E.
It all begins when Johnny arrives at a coffee shop known as CD’s, where he becomes fast friends with a group of Blues including a young punk named Frankie, and a beautiful barista named Rachel. With Frankie’s guidance and Rachel’s interest, Johnny slowly becomes part of their world, finding an existence he never knew. Between fights with the state and private police, a sex house known as the Bed, live punk shows, a warehouse for making paper, cage fights and celebrations of the human body Johnny lives life far away from E. Yet something is stirring all around him, and some things aren’t exactly as they seem. Frankie begins a plan that will change E forever and Johnny chooses to be at the forefront of the revolution. But can they truly leave E behind or is the system stronger than they know?

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.W. Pritchard
• Release date: Feb 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311643407

M.W. Pritchard

M.W. Pritchard is a Writer of Fiction, Screenwriter, and Film Director. He lives in Portland, Oregon.

Book preview

E

By M.W. Pritchard

Copyright 2014 M.W. Pritchard

Smashwords Edition

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents:

Section A

Section B

Section C

Section D

Section E

A

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ELOG 42:

November 14th 10:45pm

Excerpt:

She was dead. That’s what the smell told me, and that’s what I knew for sure. Well at least, I’m sure now. Looking at her, the dark waves of her hair, the thin pale arms protruding from her black collared shirt, which has crept up from her waist, exposing a surprisingly soft skin at her hips.

The room was dark, yellow light bled through the dingy curtains, adding to the display of the grotesque. The girl’s body was lying face down on a scraped up and dirty linoleum. Food and dirt surrounded her; this place was disgusting. Her right arm was about a foot and a half from a table. I walked slowly up to the body; Suede and Alex were frozen in the doorway of the room, staring at the body. I thought I heard Suede warn me not to go near her. But I had to see her. I had to see what I ultimately had done to Rachel.

EMOVIESWEST eLOG: 424698

Hey kids, this is Johnny Kill. I apologize in advance for my leave of absence. For many of you who know me or follow my Elife, you already know that my uncle has died. My uncle basically raised me, and I respected him more than anyone else I have ever known. I will be attending his funeral tomorrow and dealing with the various plans, payments, and impersonal handshakes. Please bear with me.

I’ll be back soon, with some new reviews, Eviews, and movies to show. I am sorry.

-JKill

COMMENTS:

lastbutnotleast: I’m sorry to hear the bad news. Hang in there J.K. Ur the best.

Blueteamscout: I cant imagine what you must be going through. Good luck.

LoveAngel: I love you. When I read this message I cried.

Bill4Bill: That’s tuff. Come back soon.

XtheX: Hey man, I read your Elife TWING. Let’s talk soon. Email me.

KittyN.Sane: We need to talk as soon as you get back. Let me know.

CerealKiller: I remember when my dad died. I’m really sorry. Hang in there. Lets play some GOVS 1 when you get back. Till make you feel better.

PrincessCali: Ur so amazing. I’m sorry for your loss. If you need anything let me know.

(Continued…)

ELIFE of JohnnyKill: post 835

As many of you know, my uncle, the man who raised me, has died. I twing’d pics of him, along with my own thoughts and feelings since I left for the funeral (Check earlier posts). He was a great man, and he made me who I am today. Beyond this there is not much to say, except that he has asked me to do something for him and I feel honored to do so. He left me a large cardboard box before he checked into the hospital. Within the faded box were the remnants of his youth, things that he wanted me to have, and a handwritten letter to me. And as I promised him, I did not open the box until three days ago, the day he died. I will not bore you with the full details of his letter, but the ideas he has left me with are brilliant and inspirational. I am taking his final words to heart.

In short, I will be doing what he asked. I will no longer be using any of my Elife accounts, nor will I be working at Emovieswest. I am not sure when I will come back.

In his honor I will no longer be on E. I know how many of you will feel about this but it’s something I have to do.

I will leave you with an excerpt from my uncle’s letter:

…When all of man is wiped clean from this earth, beings from other planets will find our historic ashes. They will look at our history through objects, just as we have done with previous civilizations. The Aliens will take note of the Egyptians and the Aztecs. They will find the dominance and tragedies of our lives. They will decipher our writing and our technology. The will see the advances of the industrial revolution through cars, machines, smoke-stacks, photos, film, and buildings. Yet suddenly, all our creations will seem to have stopped when man began praying to rectangular glass and plastic rectangles, sitting on our shrines or always in our palms. At first we prayed to silver discs, now to microliths. Little plastic boxes we carried everywhere; no visual art, ideas, or thought. Only the black screen. These Aliens will see our modern society and wonder why our passion died with this religion. If the power were to die, we would have no history.

EMOVIESWEST ELOG: 424700

Hey kids. Despite my usual cynicism and wild exploits that’s earned my credit and status in the E world, I am writing this to you in all seriousness and candor. As of now, I am resigning from my position at Emovieswest. I’ve had a great time entertaining you all with my Elog and will look back at these last two years fondly. Some of you are aware of a recent tragedy in my life and I have decided I need a change of scenery. I will miss my days as your Film Classics Ehost. I am proud that so many of you have taken a liking to the films I have found worthwhile. So many people have lost what it is to watch a film, or to understand the reason for content longer than a fifteen minute Evid. I have received hundreds of Emails and Elogs complaining to me about the lengths of the films I show. I have to laugh. And even more people watch the films and ask what the point is of showing a visual text that is so archaic and unreal to modern life. Again, I have to laugh. It’s kind of a sad laughter though, the kind of giggle that’s added with a head-scratching sadness followed by a long sigh. This is just another reason for the Elog you are currently reading.

What has happened, you may wonder?

A couple days ago I watched one of my uncle’s favorite films, which was also one of the films that got me into this job in the first place. The film was Casablanca (The original of course, 1942). At the end of the film, the classic moment between Rick and Ilsa, I actually began to get a little emotional, their goodbyes reminding me of my final moment with my uncle on his hospital bed. I’ve watched this film at least a hundred times, and despite the emotional exchange between the star-crossed couple was pure, I suppose I just never really took it in. Maybe I was just having a sentimental moment; maybe it was the personal things going on in my life. Maybe it was Ingrid Bergman reminding me of my ex-girlfriend, with her full and delicate lips and intense but sensitive eyes. Casablanca, to me, is a film about the people waiting for their chance for a better life. It is about the hidden deals, the secret lives, and the aversions of military control. This, of course, is beyond the love story itself, for which the surrounding context is the metaphor of the relationship between Bogart and Bergman. Yet none of these things was the reason this film upset me. I didn’t understand why at the time but after a couple days I now realize the truth of the matter. I was not upset from the emotions between the couple or of my uncle dying as I had originally thought. I realized why I was upset was not out of romance, but out of the hope. The chance for a better life. The world we live in is not the world of Casablanca. We do not live in a place where secrets can be concealed for the better good. We do not live in a world where people slide notes (out of paper) under doors, with secret handshakes and quick-glanced nods. If we lived in the world of Casablanca, or rather Rick and Ilsa lived in ours, they would never be separated, at least not through E, through their EM’s, Emails, Elogs, Ejournals, Elife, etc. They would never be apart. Isla would have eventually left Paul Henreid or had a virtual Effair with Rick. Their love would have been rekindled in a virtual, electronic way. An unreal way. And what may have been a beautiful final moment between the two at the plane would now become a forced memory of physicality, a memory they wished they could revisit on E. But we all know how the story goes. Elives are not the same as the lives of Rick and Ilsa.

But what is out there?

What is happening Inreal that I am missing?

Does Inreal still exist?

And now I have decided to commit myself to these mysteries. I am leaving you now to go search for my Casablanca. Maybe I am on the search for a new life. Beyond the control, beyond the virtual, beyond the fiber optics and ones and zeros in the air.

I am very sorry to my fans out there and the people that have supported me and this Esite over the years. We have watched a lot of great movies and a lot of fucking awful ones too :). But with this, I do have to leave you all, and I don’t know if I will be back. This has been a great time in my life, but at this point I must bow out of this. Thank you all again, best wishes, enjoy good films, and good life.

We’ll always have Paris. -JKill

COMMENTS:

QuetoU: What the fuck do you think you are doing?

ICEEHANDS014: I love you. Why are you leaving us? What did your uncle say?

Cookeyrat: Fuck you.

XtheX: You’ll be back. Wait, you’re still going to be in our unit on GOVS right? You’re our best rampager.

HPfuckcraft: Watch your fucking back asshole. You think you can just fucking quit. So many people worship you and you’re going to spit in our fucking faces? You’re a fucking loser.

XtheX: I understand why you are doing what you are doing. I respect that you are leaving in honor of the man who raised you. Fuck what HP says. He doesn’t know you. :) But don’t forget us, and please, don’t forget the anniversary fight on Ebox. We need you there. Rebel GOVS!!!!! Coming out at the end of this month!

Cute4you: I love you so much. Please don’t leave!!!

(Comments continued…)

ELIFE of JohnnyKill

People have been wondering what happened with Kitty and I. You also may have noticed that I referred to her as my ex. There is a reason for that, a big reason. And rather than draw it out on my Elife, I will just give you this, the transcript of our last conversation. Enjoy:

I.M. Correspondence 1:50am

JOHNNYKILL AND KITTYN.SANE:

JohnnyKill: So why won’t you talk to me?

KittyN.Sane: Go fuck yourself

JohnnyKill: This is ridiculous. I’m right here. You can talk to me with your mouth.

KittyN.Sane: No.

JohnnyKill: So then do you want to tell me what the fuck is going on?

KittyN.Sane: Let’s just leave it alone.

JohnnyKill: No, this is stupid. You were fine watching the movie, you were fine up until now. What is going on?

KittyN.Sane: You’re such a fucking asshole.

JohnnyKill: OMG are you fucking serious? Ur really only going to talk to me EM?

KittyN.Sane: You’re lucky I’m talking to you at all.

JohnnyKill: Yeah, I feel super special.

KittyN.Sane: You should.

JohnnyKill: Ok. If I’m so special, tell me what’s going on?

KittyN.Sane: OK fine. Why are you doing this bullshit? For your uncle? Who gives a shit?

JohnnyKill: R U serious? :(

KittyN.Sane: No, I’m not. Yes of course I am. There is nothing out there. You have everything you need online.

JohnnyKill: That’s not really the point.

KittyN.Sane: O, there’s a point…

JohnnyKill: Why are you being like this?

KittyN.Sane: I’m not being like anything. Ur being stupid. I’m just reacting to it.

JohnnyKill: Look, I care about u. I love u. But u should respect what I feel I need to do. I mean, my uncle just died.

KittyN.Sane: Exactly. He’s just ur uncle. Who fucking cares?

JohnnyKill: Are u serious? He fucking raised me! He’s like my father!

KittyN.Sane: Well I don’t have parents. I’m fucking fine.

JohnnyKill: You actually do have parents. U just refuse to talk to them over some bullshit of u running away.

KittyN.Sane: WHAT!?! Go fuck yourself, John-John!

JohnnyKill: Seriously though. Ur a fucking idiot if you think that’s the same thing, and furthermore, you are completely disrespecting me. And my uncle.

KittyN.Sane: Awe, are you gonna cry? Fuck u.

JohnnyKill: Jesus! I’m sitting right here and you won’t even ACTUALLY talk to me!....

KittyN.Sane: Ooo all CAPS, aren’t u angry. Look Johnny, maybe we should just not do this anymore.

JohnnyKill: You read my mind.

KittyN.Sane: What?

JohnnyKill: Did I stutter?

KittyN.Sane: Are you breaking up with me?

JohnnyKill: I’m not going to have someone talk to me like that. Disrespect me. FUCK YOU. How’s that for all caps?

KittyN.Sane: No 1s ever broken up with me?!?!?

JohnnyKill: Well, I guess this is a first. And I have to tell u something. Ur actually kind of a piece of shit. Even before this shit with my uncle I was going to leave u. You’re fucking crazy. Ur manipulative. Ur actually a terrible person. And now I really see it for what it is. So thank you. I just need this last piece to end this for good.

KittyN.Sane: PLEASE SIT BACK DOWN!!!! LOOK, YOU WANT ME TO CRY?! I’M CRYING. PLEASE DONT LEAVE!!!!

JohnnyKill: No.

KittyN.Sane: Fuck you!!!!! I’m fucking begging!!!

JohnnyKill: How many chances am I going to give u? Like the time u cheated. The times u lied to me. I’m done Kitty.

KittyN.Sane: CLOSE THE DOOR NOW!!!!

JohnnyKill: I am.

KittyN.Sane: No ur not!!!

JohnnyKill: Between you and I, I am. I really don’t want to see you again. I’m going to unplug. I’m doing this for my uncle. For me. And no one is going to get in the way of that. Especially not you. I never want to hear from you again. Email, Elife me, do whatever the fuck you want but I’m done… So I guess thank you for this. You told me exactly what I needed to hear. Goodbye.

KittyN.Sane: Johnny!!!!!!!! COME BACK! I know you’re out in the street! DON’T LEAVE ME!!!

KittyN.Sane: Fine. Ur a piece of shit with a small dick and I’m gonna tell everyone! Ur such an asshole!!!!!!!! U think u can just walk out! JUST WAIT. U’ll get what’s coming to u. U have no idea what I was prepared to do. I wanted to marry you!!!! But NOT now. Go fuck Urself!!

KittyN.Sane: Johnny?

KittyN.Sane: Look I’m sorry!! :’( PLEASE TALK TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

KittyN.Sane: I fucking hate you.

ELOG 01:

September 18th 1:35pm

This is the Journal of Johnny Hill, or my Elife name, Johnny Kill.

Hand Written.

So here I go, my first Journal.

I’m sitting here on the steps of the old courthouse, only blocks from where I purchased this journal. It’s silent outside. The cement steps of the courthouse are starting to make my ass hurt, as I have been sitting here for the past twenty minutes thinking of what to write.

I guess I should first start by saying it’s been five days since my breakup with Kitty, twelve days since the death of my uncle. Needless to stay, beginning this journal already appears to be the beginning of a new life.

As my uncle has requested I am writing all of this Inreal, on a paper journal. Why, you may ask, why write in paper, when there are literally thousands of journal hosting sites on E? Well, I wanted to write on paper, with a pen in my hand (which, mind you, finding just those two objects was no small feat… will discuss later), because there is purity to it, a reality. And most importantly, it cannot be deleted, Emailed, forwarded, or lost in a system crash. It has permanence unlike the world of E. The letter E stands for EVERYTHING. But it is NOT everything. And in all reality it is nothing.

Fuck, what has he done to me?

My uncle’s words coming out of my mouth, or at least onto this paper. I’m not even sure if I believe any of it. Just giving it a shot. :)

Here is another excerpt from his letter, transcribed by hand, sitting here on the steps.

"…I mean let’s put this in perspective, Johnny. Look back 40 years to the onset of new digital technologies; the governments around the world decided on the creation of a new Internet. This new Internet was going to reshape the way we do everything. And it did. Of course you were still a young kid when the change-over happened, when the World Wide Web became E. Just one letter. How simple is that? E. The American Internet. Your generation sure does love their simplifying of things. And what does E stand for? EVERYTHING. Food, clothes, communication, family photos, movies, relationships, transportation, paychecks, jobs, schooling, desires, dreams, and the future itself could and would be found in E. But didn’t the old days of the Triple W have that same thing? No. The Internet did not yet control our lives, and more importantly was not yet ALL of our life. We all saw the change happening but were too intrigued by the idea to know when to quit.

We changed the Internet to E as part of the new world order’s plan. And it is true, we had to change or we were going to die. E was fueled by the Green Movement, starting in the early part of the century (you may know this from your Ecourses). Fossil fuels dwindled and global warming and climate change was more than just a fear. We began having hotter summers, colder winters, and swarms of new illnesses. And then there was the merger of TV and computers. The joining of media into one medium is crucial to E and the way our culture had been caste. Of course you may think climate change and an electronics merger would not seem to be related things, but to the GREEN movement they very much were. The merger, with E, meant less movement by humans; fewer things would be needed for creation in a physical world. If everything we do went online we would not waste anything except the limitless space of the digital world. This wasn’t the catastrophe I’m making it sound to be though, because it also gave us a chance. It gave us salvation, a way to survive the coming centuries. We were living a doomed life, with product creation, waste, and our general lack of concern over the fate of a planet so much that we almost lost our lives… Yet this is backhanded. The Green Movement was not for salvation but for a buck. For profit only. It was all planned by the powers that be. It wasn’t climate change. It wasn’t running out of oil that made this happen. They were waiting till the time was right. Why would they waste their gas, their oil, their cars, their miracles, their profits, until they were out? You would throw away a diamond even if you knew you had an entire city of gold waiting for you. Even if there are casualties. Even if thousands, millions of people, would die from cancer, from fear, from war, or from the toxins in our land, sea, and air, there are still billions of people who won’t die. Billions of people that will crave the cures, and they will pay top dollar to get or find it. E was that cure. They were just waiting for their moment. ‘Til the money was secured in the right hands.

E was a chain reaction of convenience and needs. First was the Clean Air Objective, the government payout of anyone who gave up their gas cars for government funded Battery Cars. This was followed by the banning of public vehicles in major cities, like Portland. This allowed only Battery Cars (Batcars) and Mass transit in metro areas. Only blue-collar worker cars and trucks would be allowed into the cities. Fewer cars on the streets meant fewer roads were needed. The fewer roads gave way to foot-traffic-only streets. The streets got smaller and the cities were left with the extra land once needed for roads. And this is when cities began selling sections of the grid to mega-companies, which would ultimately, create the corporation blocks. The urban population rose as the companies provided work and living under one roof. These Corpblocks and E were the perfect solution for the future. (But not just for our future, the corporations and governments involved.)"

In another section my uncle went on to say:

You need to free yourself, Johnny. That is what I’m asking of you. Experience life without E. Leave your Corpblock. Go anywhere you can. Experience what you can only do with the blood in your veins, and you skin and bones, the air in your lungs. The world you are living is not real. So make it real.

We have to begin a new future once more. We need to begin our journey back to the world.

Shit, I can’t believe I transcribed all that. My hand really hurts. I don’t think I can even remember the last time I wrote so much. My middle finger is bruised where the pen was resting as I wrote. I hope my uncle’s happy. I wonder what my friends are up to. Nope, got to stay strong.

Oh fuck. I didn’t even get to how I got this journal. I’ll explain tomorrow.

LTR.

ELOG 02:

September 19th 11:45pm

No I am serious, my hand really hurts. I can’t actually remember the last time I hand-wrote anything.

So, I just went online, and geez, there is a shit-ton of people really pissed about me leaving. I’m actually getting hate-mail! One girl said that I ruined her life. Ruined her life?! I just show movies. CerealKiller says I shouldn’t worry about it. I’ll have to tell you about him sometime. Know what I just realized? I don’t even know his real name. We’ve been friends for a couple months now and I don’t know his name. I guess it doesn’t matter. What’s an Inreal name anyway?

And seriously what was with Kitty? Honestly, I’m so glad to be done with her. She was such a fucking bitch and a psycho. I talked to XtheX about her and he really put it in perspective. She just really isn’t a good person. She’s a shithead, Says X. And now with everything else I’m changing, I really want only GOOD people in my life. I really want to do something different. I want a new life now and she is the first thing that needed to change. It’s been a long time coming. And she knew it. What’s sad is I actually feel bad about what I said. But I guess that’s how people like her work. They make you feel bad when you finally give them what they’ve been giving you. She’s manipulative. I know it’s going to be tough, but I actually feel a lot better without her. I feel like I can move forward where I never felt I could before. It was hard not to write her back, but Jesus! I’ve argued before, but literally we were both on the couch and she refused to even say a word to me! Even when I was walking out?! Who does that? Psychos do that. But enough about her. This is about me now. Not her. Finally. I’m not even going to use the RateMyEx app. She’s not going to get the satisfaction to read about what I think. She’s getting nothing from me.

Okay, so I’m going to give my hand a break; I didn’t think this would be that hard.

LTR.

ELOG 03:

September 25th 10:05am

So, now that I and my hand (the left) is well rested I can tell you the story of how I got my journal:

First I have to say that being unplugged from E is not easy. I have to tell you the truth; I was on E for a couple hours yesterday. It’s too hard without it! People are really confused why I left and what I am trying to do.

What am I trying to do?

Who the fuck knows? ;P

I spent most of the day yesterday reading over Emails and Elogs about why I left. Even after citing several quotes from my uncle and my own personal reasons people are still not getting it. But wait am I getting it? Am I stupid? That was the best job I ever had! I am sure I can probably get my job back. My triumphant return, if you will. But it still worries me a bit. I mean financially I should be good for a couple months, I think. I should really just take some time to figure out this new world.

A world without E.

Is that what this is?

Is that what I am trying to do?

Is it what my uncle wants me to do?

So yes, a world without E. Sounds like I am trying to kick a drug habit. Can I even function without computers? Can anyone? To solely function as a physical form and nothing more. Like my Uncle said to me, A man is a sum of his actions. He would tell me that when I was down, usually about a girl. Alright, sorry… Getting off topic, again.

First, about this journal:

I sit here handwriting this thing on the 24th floor of the Charles Mann the 3rd building. A soft blue light hits the pages of this journal, entering from the large window of my living room. The blank pages that I’m filling slowly are surrounded by the thick crimson canvas cover and binding. Brown cardboard peaks out through the worn corners of the canvas and the hard points of the book’s cover have bent inward. The red canvas is badly damaged itself, stained darker over time by oil and marks left by the previous users. It’s texture feels aged, as if dust secretes from the pours of the book, saturating my studio with a damp, dusty, smell. But I mean this sincerely and sympathetically, as the aroma from this book is beautiful. It’s been very soothing to me, almost like the smell is associated with my transition into this new life. It is the classic scent of pages and age. Like finding an old trunk or trinket from an old house, it has the odor of the past. This is the smell of the journal.

I am actually very proud of this find, and as of now I would consider this book one of my most valuable possessions. It wasn’t cheap either, maybe that’s why. :)

When I acquired the book I am writing in now it had only been a couple days since I left work and had done my best to stay off E. Specifically, it was September 18th when I found this journal. My day began as it had over these days. I woke up and left my Com on the dock in the kitchen. It buzzed a couple times, notifying me of various alerts and people contacting me but I forced myself to let the Auto grab it. Of course, I have to admit, I was looking over at it constantly while I made breakfast. Especially when I have the newest model, the A3 by SonSamo.

Fuck, it’s awesome.

Even came with the new easy strap for my wrist.

Dammit! I miss you, A3.

#sadness.

Unfortunately I have to upgrade my living room Glass for it because it’s a little old now. At least my desk glass is still compatible and I can patch it through to the living room glass. Not full res, but whatever, its just vid.

As I sat around, ignoring calls, Emails, and desperately resisting E and my A3, I realized I needed something new to jump-start my new life. What was going to assist me in departing from my beloved world? Again I turned to my movies. I decided to do a little research so I loaded my large film collection into the 60-inch glass in my living room and watched as many old films as I could; specifically anything before the time of the home computer. How did they do it? I know they’re just movies, but what else do I have as reference? I suppose I could find some old bastards in some Eloggers retirement group, but movies are more my style (And they probably wouldn’t be able to remember anyway). I selected films about the period itself, about the time, and the genres that really capture the culture. I ended up watching a lot of 50’s and 60’s films, and a lot of the 80’s coming of age teen films. This may sound weird, but the hyper focus of youth in all three decades actually helped a lot. These three decades were reflective of time and a very pure example of how they thought life was for them then. A strange mix, I know, but watch the similarities. Although their statements weren’t exactly what I was looking for, it was their communication, I suppose, that sold me. Pay phones, letters, books, house phones with cords?! HAHAHA. I found it fascinating; writing papers in school, paying with cash, checks (Whatever-the-fuck checks are), muscle cars, and relationships depending on the physical world. Beyond letters and restrictive phone calls, to really see a person, to really experience life, it had to be face-to-face and physical. After watching some 20 films in a row I was left drooling. I was mesmerized. Enchanted even.

After a day of thinking, I typed out the things that made these people in these films alive without a computer. The list got pretty long.

Number five on the list: Paper.

My first step away from E and my Com.

I had to find paper. More importantly I wanted to find a journal like all those kids in the 80’s teen vids.

I left my apartment and walked out into the Art Deco themed hall of my Corpblock to elevator D (which is one of six in my Corpblock.). And yes, I did take my A3, but only for directions, because I knew leaving my Corpblock I was going to get lost. To my credit though, I only used it for directions. :) I swear.

My treasure hunt began.

I rode the elevator to the lobby, stopping once on the 14th floor for a younger girl who got on with her dog. She smiled as she took her place at the opposite side of the elevator, her eyes staring at me from under the hair in her face. She brushed the hair from her eyes and slid another glance towards me. When our eyes locked she looked quickly away and down to her dog, a white fluffy whatever staring curiously up at me, lower teeth sticking up over its gums. Judging from her clothes and demeanor she had to be about 16, maybe 17. She smelled fruity. At first I thought it was the smell of her gum but I didn’t see her chewing. Could she actually be trying to smell like cotton candy? I hope not. Maybe that’s the cool thing now. I can just imagine the ads for it on E, something disturbingly erotic, directed at 12-year-olds. Just as it’s always been: Over-sexualizing youth.

Things change so fast now. Shit, I was out of fashion by the time I was 22. I’m 26 now. Think how out of touch I am (scary). It’s the 10 to 17 year olds who really own the world. They own the Emarkets, they own the technology, and they own the media. They scare me.

I continued watching the girl using the wall of mirrors surrounding us in the elevator, trying not to make my gaze too obvious. Apparently she thought of the same idea. Our glances crossed again through the opposite reflections of the elevator. We both sheepishly looked away, yet in my peripheral I could see her looking at me again, testing me, betting me, provoking me to continue our game. Sorry, babe. Not this time. You’re way too young. However, as the elevators opened I realized that she wasn’t waiting for me to flirt back. She was about to say something, her mouth moving as if she was making silent words. I wonder what it was. She exited quickly and headed down a side hall to our courtyard. I slowed my walk toward the main door through the lobby to test her, but she didn’t look back. The white cotton ball pretending to be a dog trotted along beside her, tied to a pink leash. Hate those dogs. The main entrance’s electric doors slid open and I stepped out into reality.

The air smelled very clean on the outside. Inreal. It was raining lightly the day prior, fairly normal for Portland weather. I’ve lived here since I was seven when my uncle took custody of me, thankfully, taking me from Texas. My parents, I think, were still in rehab at the time. After a lot of the refineries shut down, much of Texas and surrounding area became a ghost town. Ghost state, I guess. At least that’s what my dad said. Of course he was like a ghost to me. Either way, I talk to my mother every now and again. But not lately. Wonder if she’s okay…

Portland, Oregon. The home of fashion, style and anything Epop. On top of that the solar and green industry exploded in the teens and twenties making Portland one of the wealthiest and most prosperous cities on the west coast.

I live in Viasun Corpblocks, specifically a retrofit of the old Park blocks. Quadrant nine. Owned by Viasun and True Echo. There was a great incentive when the area was built to reuse old block design, to fabricate around or within historic structures and areas. So parts of the Charles Mann building are actually a historical repurposing of some old buildings from the old city. I wonder if Viasun is going to try and kick me out being that I am no longer employed. The old Park blocks were so named because the entire street was once a park. I mean grass, trees, and benches. Maybe that’s why all the buildings around here have such massive courtyards in the centers of their Corpblocks. I’ll have to look it up. Again, probably part of the retrofitting.

So I figured the best place to find a journal would be in the Pearl District. This area is known for a lot of retired rich people, many still living off the wealth from their parents who had the luck and very good timing with computer technology, solar, property, and the green movement. One of the old bastards might have a shop or something that would sell some paper, maybe some pens.

Were there still Inreal stores?

I mean I knew of all the ones in my Corpblock, but I hadn’t actually been outside my block in months. Keep in mind; a Corpblock is not your old historic block, but a 6 to 12 block stronghold, so there’s been no reason to leave. The only reason I’ve ever really left is if I had friends or was seeing someone in a different Corp.

I finally made it out of my Corpblock quadrant which took me about ten minutes. One of the Viasun paralice watched me leave with very inquisitive eyes. I stepped off my block and I suddenly felt vulnerable, naked. I passed along another Corpblock, the ADG block and made my way into the Pearl District.

My original thought was I could find a shop or something. But did I find a thing? NO. I was so fucking wrong it was not even funny. After two hours of searching through the streets I did not find a single fucking store that wasn’t protected within the confines of a Corpblock. My question, wondering if shops Inreal still existed, was answered. Not only is there nothing in the Pearl District except old bastards walking around, seemingly with no direction or purpose they were all rude fucking ass-holes. I asked White-Hair after White-Hair about paper and pens and almost every one of them assumed that I was trying to insult them or was mocking them. Many would flash the newest and most expensive and sheik Com, some literally shoving them in my face to prove to me they were part of the future. Lots of A3s actually. One curly white-haired woman actually started yelling at me.

If you’re going to come out here to insult us, you can just turn around and crawl right back up your own ass! She actually said that. This woman looked pretty good but through her several surgeries and overly tight Adidas yoga pants she must have been pushing 80. She walked away with some bizarre green beverage in her hand. Oh yeah, that’s after SLAPPING ME IN THE FACE!!!

WTF?

I considered chasing after her to beat the ignorance out of her when an old man in a steal chair put his hand out in front of me to stop me.

Probably not worth it, the man said to me. I took a deep breath and turned, following the man’s gaze to the Pearl’s Paraliceman walking the block. The cop looked at me. His walk slowed. I could see him analyzing my reasons for being on his block. He looked at the old man and the old man gave him a nod. After a moment the Paralice continued on foot down the street, his eyes never leaving me.

Thanks again. I said to the old man.

The man was sitting at a coffee shop under a large fabric over hang. He had a book in his hand. A book! Inreal!? Could it be? And not just that but a coffee shop! An actual outside store!

We both took a moment to examine each other before I spoke again. The man had a smile on his face and was the first nice face I had seen in the Pearl. He was quiet in his demeanor, calm, and I just felt at ease being near him, as if he had an essence of tranquility that was infectious.

Can I ask you something? I said.

Sure, he responded, respectfully.

Where’d you get that book? I asked him, as politely as I could. I was still a little uneasy from the cop, and still a little pissed at the old bitch slapping me.

The book store. The man said with a sarcasm that was very typical of how older people respond to youth. Not that I was young by any means, but I guess from his perspective I was.

No, I’m serious. I’ve been looking all around to see where I can find some paper, I said to him. He actually seemed impressed. The wrinkles in his forehead scrunched down as he looked at me, glaring slightly from the overcast sky above.

For hard copies? You’re using a solid state machine, right? The man asked me as politely as he could for such a ridiculous question. I like this guy.

Well yeah, I have an A3, and of course all my drives are solids. I’m actually looking for paper to write with. Like a journal. The man looked at me like a wounded soldier returning from war. For a moment I thought I saw the formation of tears. The man took a sip from his coffee and leaned back into his chair. After a moment he spoke again and asked me why I would want such a thing, so I told him. Because I want to see if I can do it. The man looked at me curiously. Was this not the answer he wanted? The man stared at me. He was thinking. I could tell that much. Hurry up and answer! The man shook his head and shrugged.

I actually couldn’t say. There used to be one right across the street, but that was all specialty paper, nothing like a journal, but that was years ago. There used to be a lot of things across the street. There’s the bookstore across the street. He said pointing. But I don’t think they even really carry books anymore. The man took another sip from his coffee. Sorry.

What do you mean, the bookstore doesn’t carry books? I asked him.

Because they’re closing the store. You can go in there still. It’s pretty barren. They’re scanning all the books in now.

Apparently I looked very confused because the man decided to elaborate further. About three years ago the bookstore bought and took ownership of the public library. Ever since then they’ve been scanning in and cataloging the library’s inventories. And I think they’re just about done. Almost every book in the public library can be found, in its entirety, on E. I guess I never even thought about it. I mean I have seen books before, but I suppose I have never been to an Inreal library. Haven’t you ever been to a book store? Or a library?

No. All my schooling was on E or Ereaders, didn’t really need books. I mean I had a couple when I was young, I guess. I paused for a moment. I actually felt guilty. Stupid. Like I was saying something so incredibly ignorant. But I liked this guy, so I decided to keep talking. So what happens to all the books?

They get recycled, burned, or sold. The man said, holding up the book that he had on the table next to him. That’s when I noticed what was on the seat next to him. A large plastic box full of books. I didn’t quite get it. Why would he want these books if they were all on E? What’s the point? But then again, Why am I looking for a paper and pen?

You should take a look. It’s right there. The man pointed behind him to a small building. If you buy from them they’re pretty cheap now, even the rare ones. But at the very least someone might be able to help you find a journal. I noticed as the man finished his words his fingers dragged across the back cover of the book. He was feeling the raised creases that traveled through the satin-coated back cover. It was like he was petting the book, comforting it, letting the book know it was all going to be okay. You’re at a turning point in the world, my friend. The last days of the written word are here. We are destroying thousands of years of work. It’s heart breaking-really.

I’m sorry. I said. But it’s still there. It’s just digital.

It’s not the same, son. It’s just tragic. Keep your eye on the world around you. You seem like a good kid. And I can tell you right now, it’s all going to change from here. Hope you find what you’re looking for.

Thank you. Thank you so much. I said. The man nodded. I stepped away from him on my way toward the bookstore but turned back to him. He was taking another sip from his coffee. What are you reading? I called out to him. He quickly looked up at me and flashed the cover of the book toward me. The title was Shogun.

Is it good?

Yes. The man said. I couldn’t quite read his expression but I thanked him again and walked away. As I approached the bookstore I looked over my shoulder and saw the man looking at me as I walked. He smiled at me in a very fatherly and caring way like I was his son leaving for college or something, like they do in the movies.

I had to tell Cereal Killer about this. I had to tell someone about this. I was going to text him right then but then remembered the promise to myself. I was determined to only use my A3 for the directions I needed. But what are the rules? What am I allowed to do now? Can I just use my A3 as a phone, or maybe just use Email? I must be able