Repeat Please

The sign flashed in a neon blaze a couple of millimeters away in my sight.

Repeat Please

It flickered, momentarily allowing the blank space behind my eyes to cool before appearing again. It seemed my time had run out.

Repeat Please

“Doodle…bug,” My mouth filled with a cotton candy stickiness. “Bug, bug?” It was a hoarse scrape across my vocal chords, the effort causing the light to dance, but without the promised person there.

Repeat Please

The actual room was a hazy blur of colours behind the floating display embedded into my retina. “Bugging…” The name became a cuss as I heaved my body upright. Still no Doodlebug but at least my action activated the sensors and the notice faded.

“Doodlebug…” I sat alone, just as I had 36 hours ago when the implant kicked in and my consciousness had left.

It hadn’t worked, I wasn’t getting him back. The chance of success was so low but I’d been so sure, so certain of his vivid image returning. Now what did I have?

Life?

Repeat Please