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No Cyborgs

[People get worked up about weird things.]

I shouldn't be here.

The sign over the door says NO CYBORGS and has a picture of a flesh-and-metal monstrosity from some old science fiction show. I sip my drink scotch and soda and try not to look like I'm looking at it. The people who enter take off their smart glasses, and turn them off, putting them in lockers lined with Faraday Cages, dropping their phones in next to them.

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The newly de-phoned blinked and looked about Flora's Discrete Drinks, blinking as if clear-headed for the first time. The exposed brick of the walls, the low light, the lack of security camerasit is so different from the world outside.

Still, I shouldn't be here. At least by the wording of the sign. I have a pacemaker powered by a fuel cell that draws power from my blood buzzing away in my chest. In my neck is an RFID that held my identity, and in my wrist is a fake one with my public persona. There we're the tiny motors in my eye that help with my astigmatism. I have carbon fiber replacement bones that replaced ones irreparably shattered in a car accident. There is a microphone in my throat that I could turn on my tounging my molar.

By all rights, the sign bars me from being here, but no one was going to check. After all, the sign promised discrete, and who would submit to a full-body scan in the name of being discrete?

I looked around. All these people look kind of lost and dazed, glancing around as if just now seeing those they we're in the physical company of.

Is this what my life has become? they seem to wonder. Going to bars where people afraid of radio waves hang out?

There's a television in the corner that plays Buster Keaton movies on loop. I turn and watch that instead. I wish I had a camera in my eye, so I could jut record it and watch it at will as I'm trying to fall asleep.

But that would've been visible, and most people got edgy when they walk in and see a camera staring back at them.

I know they don't mean the life-preserving modifications with the sign, but it bugs me.

After all, why should I be barred from a place just because of what I put in my body?

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Posted in Photograph Post Date 06/30/2021






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