The computer connected to the phone. A link cable, pushed into the side, made sure that the data went into the laptop, and posted to all the social mediums on the planet. The images of one life added to the collective of the rest. Giving some understanding of who owned the picture—perhaps the only understanding available.
The wireless headset connected to the other side. The headset had looped portions so it would fit over the ears. These made it easier to move with them. They linked to the phone—so you could listen to music. A light on the side, red, turned white when it was through charging—when the headset was ready for another day.
The port on the wall, and the cord around my hips, those made it all happen. Like a communistic system, one source of income fed these and so many others.
The chair, the chair also connected to the power source. The chair vibrated in the usual way, made to stimulate muscles. A little series of buttons made the whole thing warmer or colder. Would tilt back, or forward. Would even raise and lower its height. The cushion’s micro-beads rolled around for maximum comfort, like sitting on a cloud.
The computer had a keyboard. These allowed my human fingers to interact with the device for the more random of trivial tasks. It also gave something for the fingers to do. On the screen flashed all the information needed for the user. Programs knew, in fact, what the user wanted. The computer had a few specific commands which did all sorts of interesting things.
The nerve wires were high-end. Worked with medical implants, and went into the arms and chest and chin and eardrums and tear ducts with little issue—sliding in, and despite the weight of the metal on the tips, they did not fall out of the person. They also stimulated the muscles and the organs. This allowed a lot of instant connection-based processes to run. For instance, one would stimulate my heart, subtly, on occasion, and it felt nice, the little jolt.
The auto-feeder was a tad cold. It snaked down my throat, releasing numbing agents around the edges so that the mouth would not be in pain since I held my jaw open always to receive the trickle of nutrients. The neural link helped limit the gag reflex, and the issue with the unsatisfying taste. I did not know, precisely, what it gave us to eat, but it had a stale flavor and a watery consistency. The food was also cheap to buy.
I could get up at any time. I could leave and go for that run—use those ever-charging devices. With my phone, I could call a friend, and maybe do something with them. But, I have no idea who would even want to do that—I had no reason to ever want to get up: all I ever wanted was right here.
Right in front of me. Right inside of me.