The Machine

My brain’s wired to the machine, and instantly I’m everywhere. Every house in every town, in every nation of the globe I’m present, flickering through settings and possibilities, witnessing seven billion human stories, all in the blink of an eye.

For one brief moment, I’m God. I know all.

My mind reels and, as quickly as it begins, it lurches toward it’s end. My brain, unable to process the volume of experience, cracks, shatters, and is gone. Technicians decouple my now vegetative husk from the machine and wheel it from the room.

They make modifications, and call in another volunteer.