Paris, August 14, 2249
Rain fell from the building across the street, a thousand drops at a time, bouncing off the puddles on the ground. The drops ricocheted at a sharp angle, reminiscent of the reckless alpine skiiers you sometimes came across in very old sports videos.
Jasper pondered over his plans for the day. Croissants for breakfast at the brassérie next door, and then a cozy cup of NonCafé to warm him up. Yum! He’d bring his walking bubble, and afterwards, he’d take a moment to stroll the streets, strutting his stuff like a tourist.
Tourist, such a fun word. Like touring, as if all you had in the world was spare time. Juggling several self-employed jobs was, in fact, the complete opposite of touring around as a tourist, and it was a pure miracle that Jasper even had the time to use his travel option at all. He felt grateful.
And he noticed that traveling to Paris awakened in him a dormant passion for history. He felt so alive, so awake, his eyes suddenly so wide open. How much history the city exhibited! All the streets and all the walls around him simply exuded history from so many eras – that was what they always said about Paris, wasn’t it? A cliché, but every bit true.
Earlier this year, before Paris, Jasper had only used one of his three annual travel options. He’d traveled to Norway for some parrot-watching, taking the opportunity to document their behavior and diet for his library project. Some people dreamt of traveling more, but the regulations were strict – no exceptions. Jasper didn’t mind, after all, he was in Paris now! The memories would last him a long time.
I sure hope I’ll see through the walking bubble, since it’s raining, he thought, while checking his wrist hologram’s map function for a good walking route.
First, I really should visit the Notre Dame. The cathedral’s over 200-year-old frescoes were calling him: rarely could you see something so old with your own eyes. After that, he intended to visit the Louvre Art Memorial.
To think that Paris was once called The City of Love! This historians’ paradise, better known as The City of Tears, had endured so many attacks throughout times. And survived.
People had gone pretty much bonkers when natural resources had finally run out, and large groups of rioters and hooligans had ransacked every place imaginable. This had happened all over the world, in all of the largest cities and metropolitan areas, including Paris. Local storekeepers had fled, and families with children hadn’t dared to stay in the city. It wasn’t until recently that you could see a real renaissance of city life, with new generations moving back and claiming their heritage.
This wave of moving back into the city, combined with strong nationalist ideals, was interesting to follow on the holograms. Nationalism had evolved into a peace-loving concept, now that country borders no longer existed. Everyone seemed to finally understand that things needed to be built and improved together, and not destroyed. That we were all part of the same planet and the same DNA. Was it too soon to hope that history would stop repeating itself?
After visiting the Louvre Art Memorial, Jasper intended to walk over to the artificial river of Seine, where brightly colored artificial fish swam around, producing electricity. He’d heard there was a ball held there almost every night, outdoors, where people danced to the rhythm of the bangs and cracks produced by fish electricity. The Fish Dance sounded like fun.
But the thing he was the most interested in visiting on this trip was the Zuckerberg Foundation’s Internet and Social Media Museum. After all, he did have an antique tablet at home, as a curiosity, restored and fitted with an old-fashioned, internet-based browser. Most of all, he used it to read the texts written by one of his ancestors. They were little diary entries called “blog posts”. In fact, he’d read through all of them so many times that he almost felt like he knew the author personally. Her writing was addictive. Family research could be so fascinating.
Right now, the Zuckerberg Museum in Paris was featuring a wide collection of hashtags that had changed the world, and Jasper wanted to explore them. Obviously, the worst of them had been #yolo, notoriously causing masses to stop studying and working, and just travel.
The yolo trend had lead to the incredible mass tourism wave that had been one of the drivers of the Great Destruction, coming soon after. With so many people traveling to the same places at the same time, it had simply been too much for the eco system.
As we all know, emissions of air travel had multiplied in a very short period of time, post-commercialism had gotten out of hand, and shallow coastal waters all around the globe had become poisoned by chemicals in sunscreen lotions, all manufactured by the same global conglomerate.
The hand-held phone devices that had gained wide popularity in the Age of the Internet had ended up requiring such enormous amounts of lithium for their batteries, that the whole continent of South America had drifted into an energy crisis and an epidemic of poverty, leading to a most destructive war.
The war had spread across all of the borders, destroying what was left of the rainforests. Simultaneously, Europe had run out of drinking water after blue-green algae had mutated and spread. And despite all the warning signs, certain large corporations still kept drilling towards the very core of Earth, causing vast earth quakes all over Asia. And that’s how the Great Destruction began.
Jasper had to smile, since he still remembered the year of the Great Destruction: 2024 was deeply rooted in his memory. His history teacher would’ve been so pleased.
That’s also the year his great-great-great-grandmother’s blog ended, just like that, without any warning. Jasper wasn’t smiling anymore. He shifted his thoughts elsewhere.
As far as he could tell from his historical research of the Internet, people in the olden days appeared to have had important rituals as part their daily lives. Obscure as they seemed, these rituals had apparently involved the displaying of personal images publicly, serving as a means to gain respect and status in society and amongst peers. Some of the images had received a thumbs up, and others a thumbs down, much like in the lores of Ancient Rome and its circuses. Knowing this, it was easy to see how the people of those times had felt the need to travel more and more, in order to achieve those coveted images that made them fit in.
Luckily, mankind had evolved since those days. It was hard to truly understand the motives of such time-consuming rituals that left many with low self-esteem and lowered happiness levels.
Jasper closed his eyes and took a deep breath: this day was going to be unique and he was going to enjoy Paris to the fullest, without any distractions. Just be there in the moment, see, and sense. That way, he’d be able to conjure the day’s memories anytime he wanted to, and re-live them again and again, just by shutting his eyes and letting his thoughts flow.
The past few years had been tough and full of hard work for everyone, but now he finally felt like optimism was winning. Humanity was doing better and the only way to go from here was up.
If he had enough money left over, he decided he’d buy a genuine tulip to bring home as a souvenir.
Helsinki, August 14, 2019
Jasmine closed the lid of her laptop, stretched her fingers and shut her eyes. She had a vision, the same one as always, and she saw it very clearly. It was her happy place, where her mind went whenever it was time to think of something soothing.
She saw a sandy beach. And a little boy with curly, brown hair. The boy was happy and he was playing in the sand. There was someone in the background… the boy’s father was approaching. The man started telling his son about a faraway place that he’d visited, as they sat down together, the boy in his father’s lap.
The little boy listened carefully, fascination shining in his face. His father was holding something red in his palm – a flower. The boy was looking at it with amazement.
For some reason, this image brought Jasmine peace. Her mind always returned to this scene. This moment had never actually happened, and she didn’t know who the father and boy were. A figment of her imagination, or maybe from a commercial or blog post she’d seen. But sometimes… sometimes she dreamt she was there, too.
And maybe part of her was.
40 replies on “Memories of the Future”
Very interesting story but I hope it remains a fiction 😉hope we still have a chance not to destroy completely our world
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It’s fiction for sure 😊 (I hope!) Thanks so much, Tanja, for reading!
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Wow… Something tells me you haven’t only been ” job working” today to produce such a beautiful piece.
Very unique. A master piece.
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Aww thanks for the kind words, Véro. This post was in my drafts for months, I didn’t write it today with this foggy flu state of mind I have 🤒 I wish!
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Beautiful😊
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Thanks, Christie 😊
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A good one. Kiitos… 🙂
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Kiitos! Good night! 😊
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Reading this gave me goosebumps. I too hope it remains fantasy, but one never can tell. 😳
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Thanks very much for taking the time to read it! I really wonder which way we are heading. Hopefully nothing this dramatic 😊
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Oh god, the idea of a Zuckerberg Internet Museum… ughhhh I don’t even want to think about it
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Hahahah!!! I have a a feeling he’ll even run for President one day.
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yes, I am 100% sure you are right and I’m not happy about that
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What amazing writings.. well done.. 😉
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Oh thank you, Lisa! 😁
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Your futuristic story reminds me of the Black Mirror series 🙂 I can easily picture this being turned into a movie, great writing Snow!
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Such kind words, Pooja! I’m glad to see you back – and I saw you wrote a post, can’t wait to get a chance to read it in peace and quiet so I can really concentrate 🤗 I’ll have to look up that Black Mirror series now! 😁
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Skilfully crafted and wonderfully illustrated. A beautiful piece of work! ✨🦋
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Aww, thanks dear Isabelle! I hope you’re well! Take care in this super dark Nordic season xxx
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I was feeling very dark about the world in this post until I realized we had somehow survived! Here’s hoping that the Great Destruction does not come to pass (or get worse, I guess) and that if it does, people more sensible than we are put it all back together again. Your fertile imagination strikes again! 🙂
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Thanks, Lexi, for reading this long post of mine! ❤️ I was actually just thinking of you today: I saw an old comment of yours on one of my posts and I wondered what you were up to. Glad to see you still visit WP every now and then! Hope you’re well! (And yes, we humans survived and things are about to get better! And what’s more, the planet survived, too. Happy ending.)
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Oh, I’m here lurking in the background! 🙂 I am still trying hard to keep up with the posts of my favorite bloggers (like you, of course), but some days I just don’t get around to commenting as much as I used to. As for my own posting, welllllll, you’ve seen how that’s going! I do plan to jump back in at some point!
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I’ve noticed that the longer I’m away from blogging, the less important it seems. But once I get going again, I soon become engaged again. Don’t know if that’s good or bad!
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I had no idea that Paris was the city of tears. You made a good point there. It did suffer many attacks.
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It’s fiction 😊 And hopefully will remain so
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Ahh, SMSW, this is so bittersweet and so well-written. Five more years then… I bet we will remember the year as well. You deliver several slick little knee-kicks to the generations of today. I’m rather proud that I had to google YOLO (but I do know FOMO since recently). I cannot even grasp how certain people feel the need to travel simply in order to keep abreast. And finally, I like that it is optimistic what you have written, walking bubble or no walking bubble.
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I only like happy endings so that part was obvious 😄 Thanks, Manja, for reading. FOMO would’ve been a good one. I hope people don’t really travel to be like everyone else and keep up. But I do remember a time when not everyone wanted to travel. Was it not easy enough or as publicized? I even remember the guy who trained me at my first airline job (customer service in an office), he had never even stepped onboard a plane, despite having worked for an airline (with staff discount) for who knows how long!!!
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I feel that travelling used to be more of an award or a treat. Then some figured out that they can do it either for profit or as a way of life. The guy who trained probably knew all about what a miracle it is to keep a plane in the air. 😀
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😀 Hahah! Well, I thought of making it a way of life long before these young kids came along… wow, that makes me sound old!!!! 😀
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What a wonderful, beautifully told story. I was with you all the way. Very evocative.
Alison
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Thanks, dear Alison, for reading this story! 😊
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I read it when you shared but just had the time to write something to you😓what a wonderfully crafted writing, Snow! I love your writing… that’s no secret. I wonder where we are headed to….is a grim future actually our reality? But then again, there are artistic souls, powerful activists, kind spirits who are leading the fight against all that seems to be going wrong. I remembered the chat we had sometime back about how most people do want to live in peace and want similar things😊wonderful storytelling, Snow! Happy Holidays to you and your dear ones❤️
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Thanks dear Moon, your comment was such a great gift this holiday season 😊 A lot of things that are happening right now seem absurd to me and I have a feeling that in retrospect they will seem even more so. Happy Holidays! 🤩
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Copied this to a Word file. I need to read it with time and quiet. Looks good…
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I’m flattered you’re taking the time 😊 Thanks Brieuc!
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Pas de quoi. Thing is, I have way too many comments to answer and blogs to visit “back”, so if I copy it to a word file I can read it later “au calme”. I’ll let you know.
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😊
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Just read you text Lumi. It is very good. You actually have the starting point for much more… maybe a novella? Ask yourself two questions:
1) What more events could happen? To both characters?
2) Who else could be involved in the story? Other people? People one or the other meet? Lovers? Friends? Enemies?
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That’s just what I needed, Brieuc, thank you for the tips! Stories are so easy to start but plot development is hard!
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Pleasure. best of luck.
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