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The Sarcophagus

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  The Sarcophagus I found myself resting in a cryo unit that resembled a sleek, high-tech sarcophagus . The outer shell is made of brushed metal and glass, while inside, glowing, self-weaving nanotech fibres are tightly wrapping around my body. All I could think of were ancient Egyptian linen bandages . My face is partially obscured, but I can feel the signs of distress etched across. The lighting around me is dim, bathed in cold blue and amber instrument lights. How did I get into it, and why am I seeing myself in the revival cocoon ? A Constrained Pilot The walls are pressing in, suffocatingly close. The air feels thin, hot, and heavy with the scent of my own fear. Sweat stings my eyes, blurring my vision and slicking my skin inside the flight suit , which suddenly feels like a lead weight. I can see the control panel, it’s right there. It’s a blur of familiar lights, red and green warnings pulsing in the semi-darkness, just inches away. My fingers twitch, aching to reach out, ...
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Nightcliff Suburban Path

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Seemingly alone
Within a habitat of knowns
Of their world

Where canines border patrol
In silence in readiness to abruptly utter
Their territory

Walk through as not wanted
Not to loiter not to stop
As a passive pedestrian








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