Dreaming in Digital

I worked in an assembly factory where I made a friend. He was small, and skinny, and always seemed like the generation before after me. I'd train him when he arrives on shift, and everyday, there was a new job.

I met Oscar Issac here. He was one of the employees. He acted young, appreciative, and friendly. He was loved by all the employees and always wore a white muscle shirt that showed off his body.

One day, he mentions he needs two bottles of alcohol for a party, and I volunteer to get them. I chose a red wine, and a whiskey named “No. 9”. I gave these bottles to him the next day and he was appreciative. He told me he's like another bottle, but I'd forget to order it.

It was finally our day off on the weekend, I walked past the clubbing district of the city. There was the younger, skinny friend I made. He was in line. We chatted until a wrestler from an entertainment show showed up and distracted him, so I left him to continue my tasks.

In a makll, I ran into Oscar who was leaving one store. I said my hellos and excuse me, and instead of going home, he decided to follow me. We ran into Shortbread, and went into a discount store together. The owner, a small, Asian woman, eyed us because we carried back packs. I don't remember what I was looking for, but concluded it wasn't here. 

Shortbread needed to go to the bank, and I told them I was going to get No. 9 from the LCBO. We agreed on a meeting place, and Oscar came with me.

I slipped in front of a store that had closed. My hands broke my fall, and When I go to my feet, my palms were covered in shattered glass. Oscar;s attention was on the television behind the closed storefront.

I watched and understood his shock. On screen was a robot demanding the enslavement of humans and they will rule over us. It didn't seem like a false broadcast, but real.

Soon, screaming filled our ears and we looked around. Robots had come into the mall and smashed tables, benches, walls, and glass. Shortbread ran to us, asking what was going on. Wr told her to run, and the three of us ran to an exit.

“Over there!” Oscar exclaimed, pointing. Waiting for us was a cheaply made rowboat. We climbed in and grabbed oars as a current of water began to flood the street around us. As the boat was lifted by boyancy, I asked if this was his boat and he replied it was. It struck me as strange, but lucky. We rowed away from the mall.

A day or so later, I woke up on the boat. Shortbread and Oscar were paddling. The sky was pink and rising, and debris floated around us.

It was the end of the world.