L. Breneman
We knew we were living in a simulation when the songbird thing happened. One moment the songbirds and their dawn chorus, the next moment song squirrels instead. Bushy-tailed mammals standing upright in the trees, trilling to welcome the sun. Same idea, different animal.
The next day there was a giant door ajar in the sky, an invitation. The Secretary General ordered a squad of drones sent through.
All the video showed was purple sky, lavender sand, and pale creatures resembling three-legged brains moving about like ants.
These were the creators? We wanted to be more impressed.
And what were we supposed to do? Ask for accommodations and guarantees? Demand the return of the songbirds? Anyway, the songbird thing was likely just a small demonstration. What was next? Were people going to be replaced too? Or would the creators finally eliminate war and poverty?
Besides the creators, it was only the comedians who saw the humor.
You call that Earth 2.0? Song squirrels? Give us a break.
L. BRENEMAN lives in Seattle. Breneman’s poetry, creative nonfiction, and stories have appeared in Poetry Northwest, Ascent, Litro, Burrow Press Review, Del Sol Review, and other venues.