iNSTiNCT+

Day 1

Business is even slower this week than last. It’s the start of the rainy quarter, and no one wants to splash through the market, let alone stroll through leisurely enough to see her stall. Besides, the paper would just get wet when she handed it over anyway, and it’s not like the stuff grows on trees anymore.

It’s an hour out from the end of her workday, and a popup fills her MindsEye Interface. New OS now available! Purchase and download today! She has to pay rent in a few days; a software update can wait. Sighing, she finds the auto-pay option and turns it off. Are you sure? asks the interface, puzzled as to why its default setting isn’t the desirable one. Yes, she thinks. The popup goes away.

She closes the stall early. Maybe tomorrow will be a little less wet. On her walk to the omnibus stop, a rat skitters across the alleyway right under her feet. She doesn’t expect to trip over it, but her hands reflexively catch a gutter on the wall at the last second and she doesn’t tumble face-first into the oily puddle in front of her.

Day 2

New OS now available! iNSTiNCT+ is the bold new way to interact with STiMULi! Purchase now, download now! You won’t want to miss—

Snooze, she thinks, and the ad leaves her in blessed darkness. For a while, she tries to go back to sleep, but it eludes her as she eludes the OS update. At least sleep, for now, is free.

At work, she picks up a new commission, just a short-term sketch, but the haggling deities take pity on her and she earns more than she works for. It’s just enough to cover rent.

Still using iNSTiNCT? Don’t miss out on iNSTiNCT+! She tries to get rid of the ticker rolling across her vision, but it’s not one she can close. New perspectives! Productivity boost! Connect with the world like never before! The ticker disappears, but is followed by a huge popup. Not upgrading your MindsEye Interface could result in poor performance when interacting with other Interface Users. Terms and conditions apply. Download today!

At least my landlord isn’t as insistent as you, she thinks as she closes it.

Day 3

It’s been a long, fruitless day at work. Her body aches with chill when she finally reaches her compartment after a full day of standing visitorless. She’s about to put her key in the door when her neighbor calls her over, asking how she’s been, what she’s up to, etc.

“Oh, you know,” she says, “working.”

“Is that so?” he asks. “I haven’t seen you around much.”

She shrugs. “Gotta make a living some time.”

“You really should come by and—” He winces, blinking rapidly. “Sorry,” he finally says, “I keep getting ads for that new OS. Don’t they know I have rent to pay?”

She smirks. “I was thinking the same thing. I had to turn off autopay.”

“A very wise and astute decision,” he says with faux gravitas. “Maybe you can come over and show me how to do that soon.” He winks.

“Soon,” she promises, half serious, before stepping into her compartment. “See you around.”

Day 4

In the morning she’s waiting for the elevator when someone bumps into her.

“Oh,” her neighbor from last night says. He squints at her for a second too long. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Ads again?” she asks. It’s too early to smile, but she manages one anyway.

He stares at the elevator door. After a lengthy pause, he mumbles, “Hm?”

“From last night, the new OS ads.”

“Did you mean iNSTiNCT+, the new way to see the world?” His face lights up. “I am so much closer to the people and things I love! And now in stunning 1440p! I feel calm, creative, and natural now.” The elevator doors open, and she tries to hurry through to escape, but in a blink he’s inside, holding the doors open for her and extolling the praises of the new OS.

Day 5

It’s still rainy, but for the first time in days the sun pokes out here and there, bringing with it short reprieves from the rain. A few people stop at her stall throughout the morning, more in the afternoon. She sketches out quick commissions easily, making a nice amount of pocket change. Today there are enough commissions for bigger pieces, a few days’ worth of work, that she should have no trouble paying her energy bill. As her pens brush the paper, she smiles to herself.

She stays open later than usual. When the stream of straggling patrons dies down, she closes the stall and heads out the alley, watching carefully for rats until she reaches the main road. The sun emerges from behind a plump, low-hanging cloud, the wet pavement and all the metal surrounding it glowing. Trash receptacles and poles, fire escapes and sewer grates, knives and jewelry, all become blinding mirrors in the sunlight’s path.

A man steps onto a crosswalk at the end of the intersection. Three steps in, his heart-shaped locket shines with brilliant light, the odd shape of the piece casting light directly into her eyes. She squints, her feet still carrying her forward into the street. But today the omnibus doesn’t stop for her, her outdated OS completely unrecognizable. To it, she’s not a pedestrian, not even an environmental hazard, and there’s no reason not to stay its course at full speed. The passengers inside frown as their ride bumps momentarily. The obstruction, in all its inferiority, is invisible to their advanced awareness. Their beautiful, powerful new perception will never have to process that she had ample time to decide to become a person, something worthy of recognition and brakes, and chose not to.