Off I went, into the night, out to walk up and down Bourbon-not-Bourbon Street in Old Orleans, seeing as how I had to pass the time for a few hours whilst waiting for Mattie 3.0, a character from one of my own stories I had written years earlier who had been defictionalized, to finish his shift at the virtual reality sex-porium where I had gone to get my instructions for the next part of my journey after Captain Sandy had delivered me to what was now a port city of East America.
(And if any of that confuses you, then you must have missed the earlier missives where I explained my trip through the portal created by an app on my cell phone that landed me in 2084.)
I was hesitant to interact with anyone, as I had just been schooled to be careful not to say anything that might pinpoint me as an outsider ... so I made every effort to avoid eye contact as I shuffled about in the shadows.
I had been to New Orleans for a few visits before I jumped through time to land at this re-creation of the town, now situated near what I had known as Tuscaloosa, Alabama -- and now located on the Bay of Mississippi -- the result of drastic geographical changes brought on by the fracking-induced New Madrid Quake of 2023.
The briefing I had gotten on the boat ride from the Florida Isles had prepared me for the successful attempt of the founders to capture the old vibes of the city. The drinking ... the loud music ... the good food ... all of them were fully on display, and there was an air of throwing caution to the wind in order to maximize the fun that was all too familiar to me.
Which is why I was so surprised when the stranger spoke from the alleyway where I had briefly stopped. "They *almost* got it right, eh? But you and I both know that something's off."
An old man stepped out of the shadow and into the dim light that was streaming out from the open doors of a second floor balcony above us.
He continued. "I can see it in your eyes that you know the difference between Old and New when it comes to the two competing towns of Orleans."
Our conversation that night continued ... but I'll have to tell the tale of it on the last day of the month next since the loophole when the VitalNet updates in the final hours of each month is closing. Until our next communication, I remain Ilion -- the new name I've taken on here in 2084 -- communicating with you via Troy in 2018's social media, having been brought to the future by t1a7n72.lif.
Whatever the year is when you are reading this ... stay safe!
