Author: marcelbuter
It’s 11 AM and Ibisha is quiet. I walk along the streets to find that no one is around. Shops are all automated in Ibisha, like a long row of vending machines with raw materials in them. Occasionally I run into President Craftsman, and occasionally I see some other people quickly filling their vending machines and then driving off in their shiny cars. My mental state has deteriorated by now, passing the time by checking out the automated auction house, seeing if a bit of reselling can soothe the greedy tooth in me. Tourists avert their eyes, adding to the solitude that seems so evident. Day dreams of the past come often. Dreams of Pedro Alvarez and martijn5 trying to break my spirit on the streets of Cyberia, how much I would enjoy it today compared to this loneliness.
On the seemingly endless route past the shops and past the auction house I spend most of my time with a phone in my hand, calling up traders whose stock has run out or possibly could make a profit from auctioning off some products. Some don’t even bother to pick up anymore. And so it dwindles down, is this the fate that Ibishans should expect in the foreseeable future? Should one of the main competences of an Ibishan be to stand the feeling of solitude? I made a small attempt at starting to build a land bridge towards Virtua, but the afternoon tides swept away the clay I shoveled onto the rocks. What will the future hold for Ibisha and fellow Ibishans, no one knows. For me it’s back to the couch for some afternoon soaps on the TV.