Chapter Six

                No matter how cool being able to control water with your mind is, this world sucks.  The biggest drawback being no internet.  There is nothing to do except practice and listen to the radio.  No tv, no video games, and did I mention no internet?  I never realized how much easier life was when instant gratification was at your fingertips.  Bored?  Launch bird varieties at pigs.  Forget how to get somewhere?  Pull up an app.  Questions about European monarchies for some reason?  Wikipedia has answers to questions you didn’t even know you had.  Then you see a link embedded in the article, sure you want to see about this cousin that seems vaguely familiar.  Next thing you know you have spent the last three hours learning things fit only for the Big Book of Useless Information. 

                Now I want you to cut it cold turkey for just a day.  Heck, see if you can go half a day.  We have gotten so used to having everything at our fingertips, our minds have trouble comprehending how things got done in the “good old days.”  When the fastest source of information aside from actually see something firsthand was to hear it on the radio or read it in the newspaper the next day.  If you wanted to research something you needed to talk to people or find a book in the library.  Goodbye anonymous anything, be it commenting on another faceless person’s opinion or discreet searches for things not appropriate for public conversation.

                After the aneurism fiasco, I decided the best course of action was to try and lay low.  At least by this point I have a small apartment I can call my own, and is close enough to the main portions of the city I can get around using the bike I got.  The differences between the worlds still get me sometimes.  Nobody has bothered to gear a bike, yet seats that remove with a clip to discourage theft are common.  Cars are just as common as the Nashville I’m used to, but apparently getting a driver’s license is a lot harder.  Either that or the driver’s education system is a lot better, since the amount of accidents per rush hour is about 1/3 of what I’m used to.  Landlines are considered a luxury, but I’m in no hurry to get one.  Not like I have a huge list of people waiting to get in touch with me.

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

                For some reason Prohibition flourished in this world, and all the joys that come with an alcohol free society.  Daily rainbows, a divorce rate of zero, no more domestic violence.  Pfft, who am I kidding.  Moonshiners run rampant, corruption is everywhere.  I haven’t seen any, but I’m sure there have to be the equivalent of a Speak Easy, and that they are almost as ubiquitous as Star Bucks.  Instead of warring families, apparently the underworld got organized.  Each family got a city and the surrounding area, with a supposed council that settles disputes.  This system, if it exists, probably explains the lack of all-out war considering the heads of all the families are extremely strong firebrands.  Drugs, sex, booze, weapons.  No matter what tickles your pickle, for the right price you can find it somewhere. 

                So I spend my days with a light training in the morning, followed by classes through the early afternoon.  Evenings I spend just cruising around the city to get the lay of the land, and to see what foods are available.  The lack of variety is killing me.  Gone are the ethnic places.  No Thai restaurants where you can get a plate that will clear your sinuses with their aroma.  Good bye to the Vietnamese places with authentic pho.  What I wouldn’t give for even something as simple as tandoori chicken.  Instead there are fast food joints everywhere.  The only thing resembling ethnic food are the few Tex-Mex abominations that consider a cheese quesadilla that might possibly have looked at a jalapeno as “spicy.”  My inner foodie dies a little more each day.  What they do have is diners, each one with their own “authentic southern cuisine.”  There is only so much chicken fried steak a guy can have before they all start tasting the same.  After my cruising I do some heavier training after I get home.  I try and alternate, working physically one night, followed by my powers the next night, and the occasional stamina training thrown in to keep things interesting.  After the workout is a shower then bed.  It isn’t a very glamorous life, but for now it suits me.  Working myself to exhaustion beats having to deal with the depression that comes every time I think about Sarah.