Wetweb by Robert Haney

Author:Robert Haney
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: internet, military, dystopia, future, science, zombie, robots, western, avatar, frankenstien
Publisher: Robert Haney

“Dear Mom,” he wrote. But then looking at the words on the page he decided that the penmanship was too shaky and the letters were poorly formed. His writing betrayed his nervousness and his fear. He pulled the page from his notebook, crumpled it into a ball and then tossed it in the direction of the wastebasket. He did not notice if it landed in or near.

Now he was looking at a fresh white page. He willed his hand to move slowly, carefully, confidently, stoically.

“Dear Mom,” he wrote again. He paused and reviewed this new handwriting. This time, he judged his writing was steady. So he continued.

Private First Class Holden Eckwood had promised his mother that he would write a letter to her every day. He knew that his mother was a great aficionado of the written word and that she prized hand written letters above all other forms of communication. She loved to read old style books and would avidly read whenever she could find novels or stories written and published in the old style, before writing evolved into pulp and content experiential features on the WetWeb. Eckwood doubted that his mother even owned a Synapse Suit. If she had ever experienced a pulp feature, it was years ago and she did not speak of it. Instead, she was hanging onto to old fashioned concept of written language and the now defunct enterprise of publishers and authors, writers and readers. She was a book enthusiast in a world where books were forgotten. She exchanged old paperbacks or novels with her friends and fellow book lovers, stubbornly holding onto to a simpler time. Claudia and her friends would spend their days digging through bins in second hand stores or at antique dealers. They would go to rummage sales or estate auctions. They were always on the lookout for books, hoping to find perhaps a romantic novel or a work of science fiction that they had never seen before. Something published long ago, written by an author now long gone and printed by a publishing house that no longer existed. They would ferret them out from basements boxes or the backrooms or buildings that used to be libraries. Once found, they passed the books from one reader to the next, like something precious but illicit. They whispered the names of long gone authors, or favorite quotes from forgotten books like they were sharing incantations. As if they had gained access to the secrets of a forgotten mysticism.

So while his compatriots used their free time to connect into virtual meeting environments for simulated reunions with their families who were half a world away, Holden Eckwood calmly and privately sat in his barrack, on his bunk, and wrote his daily letter to his mother and read her daily response. Writing was their connection.

The daily letters had started as a promise to his mother, but after a few weeks of daily writing, these letters became a chronicle of his life. The letters described all aspects of his life as a soldier.

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