“You don't make a name as a cyberpunk by how you live, you're remembered by how you die.” Lucy Kushinada (Edgerunners) ————————————————— As evening falls, and silence grows, I skim the Net—its endless stream. Seeking for diversion, as it often goes. Found Cyberpunk story, old but unseen. The Pod awaits, a fleeting window, To a place called “Santo Domingo”. Eyes, burning a way through me But you don’t see me. i’m the spectator here, but now… Now, there is a fire in meeeeee Out the terminal, enter NCART, Me, a guest, becoming a part. A witness of streets full of mess Dreams, crime and… (hopelessness.) And then, I saw her… conspicuous inconspicuously​​​​​​​​​​​ Gracefully but viciously Like bullet-time; but unable to stir. Eyes, burning a way through me But you don’t see me. i’m the spectator here, but now… Now, there is a fire in meeeeee You steal to survive, Living life in now. You act so aloof, But you care, somehow. Pushing luck to the edge, Always chasing the sun. Dreams of moon, But you live on the run. LUCY you’re a NOMAD! NO CARAVAN IN SIGHT YOUR LIFE!! JUST STRUGGLE AND FIGHT!!!! Eyes, burning a way through me But you won’t see me. i’m the observer here, but now… Now, there is a fire in meeeeee I’m an invisible tourist, drawn to your essence. A life like yours I couldn’t live, but intrigued by your presence, I follow you and David, till end’s crescendo. Tonight, I linger bit little longer in Santo Domingo.