Memorosa

Jorge stood, bleary-eyed and barefoot in his white bodysuit, next to the smooth, soundproof pod where he had spent the past thirty hours, its gleaming white interior belying the total darkness that had enveloped him when he was lying inside.

He pulled off his dampening helmet, a black, tight-fitting contraption with a paneled visor, and ran his hand first through the matted black hair on his head, then the bristly stubble forming around his neck and cheeks, bringing back a flush of color.

He narrowed his eyes for a moment to adjust back to the light, dim as it was. The pods were lined up in rows on either side of him, some of them humming as the memonauts inside lay in deep meditation, others open with blankets and pillows, awaiting activation.

Jorge took a deep breath, then walked toward the door—it was time to debrief on his session.

(This was an entry to IntroComp, and is thus incomplete.)