The train made its usual stop at Chon. Chon was the last remaining urban centre, where transforming humans dabbled in post consumerist delights like colourful French macarons and antique Balenciaga dad pants. It was a place for fun and rest.
Daisy sat up. She was awake for the last little while finishing her sandwich and still wondering about Mr. Beaver in the hat. He was gone, probably somewhere between Life Space and Elevententeen. She was happy to be at Chon. She wondered if her best friend from Calgary was there, Linz. Linz worked for WestJet, a now defunct flight carrier that was sold off to Indigo, a distributor of Paradise Colours. Really, this world was so different now. The practice of social marketing was a language in and of itself. Depending on one’s digital cognition, social marketing could provide sustenance to an audience or increase the relativity of binary disease. After all this time, survival of the fittest was still the game. Humans don’t want to be sick. They don’t want to be dead or living. They want to breath and do regular things.
As she stepped off the bus (she’s been off the train for A Day now), Daisy headed to the Nike outlet so she could change her clothes into something more beguiling. Her mind thought of lime green, neon orange polka dots and always-always white eyelet lace. Daisy picked something out. While waiting, she made her third eye blind to prevent identity thieves, then headed to the wall of bags to pick something to put everything in.
Her next stop was Yoga Passage. It was time to reset and recharge. Yoga these days was literally a moment to decompress. Everything left your body as your soul lay suspended in a hue of neon pink. Rearranging locations and transformations, so you could see properly. Daisy practiced yoga once, when she was young and did not finish her teacher training practice. Alice from Wonderland stopped a sour pursuit of a man named Justin Patterson as he would have led her to a full-fledged intoxicated state. The relationship was stopped by a major car alternative. Laying in Savasana, Daisy fondled her mat, remembering that life filled with creativity and ideas that could have shut this place to smithereens. She closed her lids and drifted off into space. She could see letter zs italicized, drifting into time followed by baby emoji apples and puffy digital rainbows. It was the stuff of her man-made life.
Do you see blue or yellow?