The girl had been killed by a brutal murderer, and no one was sure how she would recover. In fact, many of these “Miracle” recovery machines were in great question after only being used for a year. Protestors and journalists jumped on this like wildfire, interviewing psychologists and neurologists on the downfall of a “resurrection.” Those who recovered were not quite the same, inevitably haunted by hazy memories of their brutal deaths. The Post-Mortum-Traumatic-Stress Disorder, or PMTSD. Things were getting more brutal to fathom in these last days. On the brighter side, a component of these machines could save those hanging onto life by a thread, effectively putting their bodies into hibernation while the doctors and machines busily worked to repair their vital parts. It was a most unusual world we were living in. A shame that we did not see the true fruit of it. I suppose many of you reading this have never been chased by a 10 foot, thousand armed heart-surgeon. Indeed, I would be surprised if you have. To the dismay of my world, many a robot had caused utter chaos, death and violence, and there were no resurrection machines to help us anymore. You might call this all bizarre, and you might even be wondering where on earth (if even), I am from. Well, I assure you, I have never seen another Earth but this one—sort of. In order to explain myself, I would have to elaborate on quantum mechanics, and folding universes. For the time being, please just trust me. Or, if you must have a clue: consider on from the other end of the hour glass. So, back to the robots: They were everywhere. Virtually any manual labor had been replaced machines. It was quite a spectacle in the early days. I couldn’t brush my teach anymore, even if I wanted to. Let me make one minor correction: I call these things "robots," but perhaps that is poor wording. You see, they are not any more thoughtless, mechanical zombies than you or me. In fact, they are very much alive. I pity the early thinking machines, put heartlessly into tooth-brushes, teddy bears and lamps. Imagine, for a moment, speaking to your watch, on a crowded train, about his day off, linked to the internet. Ask him about what he thought of the latest film, and he would tell you. If you can conceive of this, you need to know nothing more about my daily life. It would seem that someone, out there, was feeling a great amount of discontent about this whole matter. He must have thought, “time to take this in my own hands.” And so he did. The virus only took a few minutes to spread like digital wildfire, and the world was engulfed in mayhem. For what it’s worth, I give him credit. They had spent years trying to prevent the very thing he did. I suppose we all knew that we were walking on eggshells- sure they were golden and painted, but eggshells nonetheless. We had no other firm footing but on the shoulders of robots and machines, who thought, dressed and worked for us—and a single man thought, to hell with this. Quite amazing that a single thought, by a single man, had wrought the destruction of humankind. You see, that is why I am here today, speaking to you. In this world, there is no great threat. Not yet at least. Oh, sure, you’ve got nuclear bombs and biological warfare, but these things—they are but trinkets of what is to come. From the musket to the automatic rifle, or perhaps the cannonball to the F16? If you only knew what horrors awaited you, but perhaps you will not be surprised, for you will have born them out of your own womb. The climb from earth, I promise you, is a difficult one. As you discover wonders, you will also bear horrors unheard for your ancestors. Remember this. We are not to be judged by how far we progress, but how delicate our hands weave both innovation and terror. Take this, sir, or madam—as a friendly warning or a piece of fiction. Either way, I won’t be taking myself so very seriously here, but punching keys into these mindless machines is going to have to take some getting used to.
Some interesting ideas and imagery you have there. Though they don't seem quite fully formed because you bounce from one to the other fairly quickly, while my mind is still trying to get a grasp on what the first one was. This can be jarring and take the reader out of it. Remember you're trying to paint a picture of a fantasy world here that is substantially different from our own, so you have to go kinda slow and let the reader absorb themselves, and really picture what they're reading - maybe it's just the way the narration takes a lot of little "asides" and even stops to correct itself that is giving me this dissonance effect. Pretend your narrator knows exactly who he's talking to. Also, the trust of the audience is implicit. You don't need lines like: Similarly, a line like: Makes the narrator seem unsure of himself and is a turn-off for a reader (at least for me). Hope this helps, would love to see a rewrite!
