Travelling back gave me plenty of thinking time, though, and Sue had been asking why I didn't write any sci-fi. We've been reading The Player of Games by Iain M Banks, one of my favourite books, and the world he wrote was so vivid and full; something that I aspire to.
Anyway, I wrote this, set about twenty years into the future, thinking about one logical conclusion for the Google Glass tech available today.
Unedited, about 1 hour, while an episode of Star Trek Deep Space 9 played (not the greatest writing environment but I'll take what I can!)
I blinked to clear my vision as the ‘tac settled onto my
eyeball. Its cold surface quickly warmed as I blinked again, then fished the
second flimsy plastic ‘tac out of the container. I flicked it dry, pinned my
eyelids back and gently laid it in.
As soon as the second ‘tac made contact, the log-on prompt
appeared, pink and transluscent, about an arm’s length away. I tapped my
password in and shuffled out of the bathroom.
“You done in there?” Mum shouted from her bedroom.
“Go for it,” I said, swiping the weather report out of the
way. Fine, with a chance of showers later; smog warning level 3, pollen count
low. Perfect.
