Cheryl visited her grandfather at the Digital Ventures Retirement Home.


    She entered his room, where he sat in his chair, nearly catatonic but twitching with a feeding tube and ''other tubes'' connected to his body.


    "Grandpa?" She nudged him. "Grandpa?"


    He opened his eyes … "Yes, dammit! What do you want? Oh, it''s you, Cheryl …"


    "How are you doing, Grandpa? I''m worried about you. You''re plugged in all day, never going out for group walks."


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Well, yeah, of course … I''m free from the oppression out there!"


    "Oppression?"


    "All of it!" He glanced at her sternly. "Don''t litter. Don''t cross the street without a signal. Don''t fight with strangers."


    "What''s wrong with that?" She raised an eyebrow.


    "You can''t do them." He shook his head.


    "I don''t get the problem, Grandpa."


    "I mean, you can''t do them. There''s no longer a choice since they''ve implemented ''Speed Brakes'' in our implants. It''s tyranny!"


    "But you shouldn''t do them anyway."


    "That''s not freedom, Cheryl!" His hands nervously trembled. "Freedom is to choose right or wrong, or else it''s a life on rails."


    "Huh?" She stood back.


    "Don''t you get it, Cheryl? In FDVR, I''m driving a car, not riding a train. A life on rails is not living!"


    "Okay, Grandpa …" She shrugged, smiled, and nodded dismissively.