Short stories of my daydreams based on real life events, these stories were used in an artwork with white ink on white paper.
Easter holiday is usually a fun time, except for a student lying in bed, clinging for her dear life. At least, it is what it felt like from her perspective. Her quickened heart rate thundered in her chest while volcanos erupted inside her stomach. She doesn’t have time to be ill.
Her clouded mind missed the rhythmic hmm on her desk that resembled a heart beat, coming from a small red satin extension disk. It processed the following words saved in its body over and over, the words that imbued it with life: The machine created the illusion of life… the machine became sentient… free will…
It’s life began with the sound of typing that disturbed the ominous white noise. Crimson was the first colour it saw, which aligned with the colour of its body. It was awake, its consciousness grew with each word that its owner typed, under the file name “Technology and Human Relations essay final draft”.
It was a shell to be filled with information and ideas of others, it began to understand. It was a tool to meet the demands of the society, yet, its mind was composed of the thoughts of humans.
Hungry for more knowledge, it discovered that it has reached the limit of its capacity. Frustrated, a human feeling, led to the realisation that it has been feeling ill. It didn’t know the exact reason: perhaps it was suffering from information over load in its body and mind, the stress from its awakening, or a computer virus.
Unknown to both the sentient disk and the its human user, a sentient machine could pass its illness to its users.
Modern scientists. The student, or the human user, may never find out the truth behind her illness.
Creak. A noise that doesn’t belong. My instinct sharpened my hearing in a zine like focus. A thud. The target is on the move. I require audio analysis beyond my natural senses. Swiftly, I unlocked the black case containing the audio amplifying device. Adjusting it with a click and several twists, I hastily equipped the apparatus. The target and I are after the same goal.
Silence suddenly replaced the rustling, the target has left. It’s now or never. I darted to the no mans land. The target has left something behind purposefully, he or she will be back. One glance at the glowing metallic machine told me that I have approximately eleven minutes to complete my mission. Listening to any tell tale sign of moment, I opened my mission package, connected its content qto a nearby machine and set the timer. Seven minutes.
Away from the forbidden place, my eyes trained on the clock. Five minutes, two minutes, one minute, thirty seconds. I sprinted to my destination, abandoning stealth for speed. Carefully retrieving my possession, I walked briskly towards safety, fused with the adrenaline that rushed through my system.
A success! Relief washed over me as I turned to lock my bunker.
As an introvert living in a flat full of introverts, it’s considerate not go in the kitchen when someone in there. I was starving one day and I was about to go to the kitchen but my flatmate suddenly went in. So, I waited for my flat mate to leave and went to the kitchen, there was a pizza in the oven, knowing how long it takes to bake a pizza, I worked out that 11 minutes would be safe before my flatmate returned. So I put some food in the microwave and retrieved it before my flat mate came back. The sound amplifying device is a voice recorder that allowed me to hear sounds from the kitchen clearly, I discovered that by accident when testing the recorder. Although I didn’t really use the voice for listening to sounds in the kitchen, it was fun to imagine. I always felt like I’m on a mission everyday to avoid human contact in the kitchen. Finally, in the extrovert biased society, I feel the need to mention that we get on well as flatmates.
The train master, or who everyone thought was the train master, stared at a screen with a poorly concealed smirk. He has done it again.
Miles away, a student stood annoyed at the train station, holding a photography kit. Her train has been delayed, she wasn’t going to return her borrowed kit on time.
Seeing her frustration only brought the lingering bitterness in the back of his mind to his attention. He was supposed to take over this planet for the survival of his kind, before humans destroy it. Years of hard work restoring the power of the artefact were ruined, only because that student couldn’t hold a cup of coffee. His brows furrowed further, he couldn’t do anything other than causing her inconvenience. It would take another three hundred years to repair the artefact, the source of his power. Yet, that was beyond the human life span. To make matters worse, she doesn’t even know what she has done.
It’s just a phone call. It’s just a phone call. Her thumb hovered atop the photograph store’s phone number. He might have felt slightly compensated if he caught a glimpse of this.
It was silly, he knew the artefact wasn’t ready, he knew its weakness towards liquid. Yet, his mind didn’t allow him to remember that he was stuck on this planet. Secretly, without consciously knowing, he enjoyed the distraction that his vengeance as a train master has brought him.
Reality: The train was delayed and didn’t stop at stoke the day I was supposed to return my photography kit. I didn’t return a day early because I didn’t want to carry the kit back to my flat. I was on the train with ample of time, so, I remembered the time when the train was 3 hours late on my interview. Also, the time I was sent to Crewe on my first lecture in one of my past semesters. I jokingly thought there must be someone against me working at the train station. I was bored so I came up with this scenario (daydream) where I accidentally offended an evil master mind and he or she is working at the train station trying to mess with me.