Love of a Lifetime

"The time is now six o'clock a.m. It is your scheduled time to awaken."

Grumbling, Destina rolled over, flinging her arm roughly against the alarm sensor.

"Gently, please. Your next time announcement is in ten minutes."

"Alarm off, Symbient. I'm up." With a groan, she threw back the covers and got up out of bed, padding into the bathroom.

"Lights ... and I'd like to brush my teeth now."

She stood in front of the basin, admiring her bed head with a self-deprecating smirk as her toothbrush was mechanically removed from its slot, covered with toothpaste, and held in position.

"Switching to manual." she stated, taking the toothbrush and, for the first time in a long time, brushing her own teeth.

Sighing as she brushed, she thought of how mechanical her life had become. Everything was voice-activated and automatic and she could barely remember a time when it wasn't. 'What I wouldn't give to know what it was like before all this ...' she pondered, leaning forward and spitting into the basin, the water coming on automatically to rinse her leavings. She rinsed and disrobed, tossing her pajamas into the hamper, which told her it was almost full and would need to be emptied in approximately 1.7 days.

She climbed into the shower, which began to stream onto her skin as soon as both feet were planted and she'd shut the door. Of course, the temperature was perfect. As always.

As she laved, her mind drifted to the books in her shop which told fantastical stories of days long-past and she couldn't help but fantasize about playing the lead female character in any of them. Destina dreamed of the day when she could afford to have her home un-automated; but, it was terribly expensive and, no matter how many books she sold, the day when she'd have enough money saved was still far off.

Exiting the shower, she entered the closet, where three different outfits were presented her, based on the current outside temperature, the local weather forecast, and the schedule that had been programmed into Symbient, her A.I. virtual assistant, who was really starting to get on her nerves.

Sighing temporary defeat, she chose a long navy skirt, with a matching jacket and a pale blue chemisette. She dressed and sat down at the vanity, chose "Natural", and her makeup was automatically and perfectly applied to accentuate her creamy complexion and violet eyes. She braided her long spun-gold hair into a single plait, fastening a pair of pre-selected silver dangle earrings which, of course, went perfectly with her outfit.

Destina went next to the kitchen, ordering coffee -- black --and a cinnamon raisin bagel -- lightly toasted with one-and-one-half teaspoons of butter substitute -- from the "Kitchen Helper", basically an automated in-home restaurant that not only made anything imaginable; but, automatically ordered groceries when it sensed it was running low on a particular item. This thing even paid the delivery boy. She next placed an order for "Tuesday Lunch", her pre-set selection of PB&J on white toast, a Red Delicious apple, and a container of fresh-brewed iced tea. By the time she finished her breakfast, her lunch was prepared and she retrieved the items, tossing them into her spacious purse.

She climbed into her car, a 2041 Ford Mustang Renaissance, the name given to the 75th Anniversary of the 1966 Mustang convertible -- the body was identical to the '66; however, this one was packed with the then-present day technology; although it was considered out-dated as she actually had to operate the car herself, unlike the current vehicles, which were completely automated.

After parking, she entered the code to open the door to her store "Remember", a bookstore which specialized in rare and hard-to-find literary works. Her prized posession, which she'd never sell, was a first-edition "Much Ado About Nothing" by William Shakespeare, which she'd acquired by pure luck, was the centerpiece of the store, kept under impenetrable glass -- and "guarded" by the most advanced security system she could afford.

She then got the store ready for customers, saving her favorite part of the morning routine for last: popping in an old Backstreet Boys CD in her antique CD player, selecting her favorite song "Time", and bobbing her head to the beat of the music, her lips silently singing along. As the CD played, she began to lose herself in thought, fantasizing about what it would have been like to have seen them live at the height of their popularity and their youth. Four of the five original members were still alive, all card-carrying senior citizens, and still giants of the music industry ... as producers and record label owners.

The buzzer, signaling a delivery, broke her trance and she went into the back to greet the deliveryman. She opened the back door, made some small talk, and accepted the moderately-sized package. With a wave, she made her way back into the store, her eyes investigating the wrapped box as it had no return address or shipping label.

Tearing open the package, her curiosity piqued, she found beneath the wrappings a black metal box -- locked -- and a crisp white envelope affixed to the top. Opening the envelope, she shook out its contents -- a key. Her mind spinning feverishly akin to a futuristic Pandora, her hands fumbled to get the key in the lock. It turned effortlessly and, inside, she found a large tome, leather-bound; and, at least, fifty years old. Her brows furrowed at the title "Destiny" and she opened the cover, the book falling loudly to the floor as her face registered shock at the image immediately inside the book: a charcoal sketch of Howie D of the Backstreet Boys ... and ... her.

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