You are now a cyborg.

At my weekly writing group we have fun writing from prompts invented by the person who organized and  publicizes the group. I had so much fun with one prompt that I decided to post my response here. It's the first time I've used anything written at the writer's group, though I always enjoy what we do. We also read our responses to the group.

The Writing Prompt: You are now a cyborg. What kind are you? How did this happen? Adventure, mishap, ...?

I am now a cyborg.

I went to sleep on the beach. I love beaches. This time I slept in the wrong place. It was on a Mediterranean beach, not much in the way of waves, no tides, so I didn’t feel I needed to be particularly careful. I had a car with a combination lock so I didn’t have any stuff to watch. I put down my poncho, fell asleep, woke up a cyborg. I looked at my hands. They were made of plastic like they had come out of a 3-D printer.

My hearing seemed odd – I heard the faint sound of the sea, the shouts of the kids running around with their shovels, the instructions of someone building a sandcastle. But it didn’t sound natural. I lifted my blueish cyborg fingers and felt for my ear. Just some kind of cloth like they used to use to cover stereo speakers. I tried my voice. Synthetic. A kid ran by and threw sand at me. It hit where my nose should have been, but then I felt no breath.

Slowly I realized that my kinetic awareness had become entirely different, my sense of a body altered in a way I was quickly forgetting. I had a moment of deep confusion, asking myself about consciousness, but I’ve never believed in consciousness. I realized that there must be a switch somewhere. I could turn myself off.