Village in the Metaverse

My name is Will; I live in the borough of Knowsley, in a town of Viking origin. But how will it appear in the future?

28 -March -2050

I rise from my hypogenic tank after an eight-hour oxygenated induced sleep. While resting, all my personal cleaning needs have been catered for, and biometric sensors have layered my skin, leaving it anointed to face a new day.

I’m refreshed, cleansed, and fed by injection during the night. I could have chosen food in pellet form during the day with a host of supplements on request.

All my vitals are constantly monitored and recorded; all required medical pills are 3d printed as needed, well-being counsellors are available on call for personal coaching or just a chat.

As for leaving the house, I have a portable wrist computer that looks like a regular watch, monitors all my movements and vital organs, and is geotagged in case of an emergency. For now, I’m advised to choose the metaverse walks- around my local areas or further afield. I prefer to walk outside with the wind... the trees rustling, the feel of the leaves, but I understand what an invaluable asset this is for the housebound and disabled.

Gone are the bulky virtual reality headsets. Now, we just pop in high-definition contact lenses, which give us the effect of 100” screens right in front of our face and activate the hearing devices implanted straight into our inner ear to experience top-quality sound from all sources of media. The sensors layering my skin and the battery implanted in my armpit, with a hundred-year guarantee that will outlast me, complete the immersion set.

I sit comfortably to take my virtual walk. I could start at the 1000-year-old church, the cornerstone of our community, or all the other places that bring memories of my distant youth, but I have a few errands to run.

“Take me to the town centre”, I mutter and then focus my gaze on the large supermarket as my starting point. I am transported inside the foyer. I browse along aisles filled with all my shopping needs. I tap on them and add them to my cart; payment is auto-taken, and they are delivered the same day to my front door.

A few more things to do. I turn back time in the virtual calendar, and all destinations change to how they looked in the early 2000s when I was a boy. It’s strange to see these places as they used to be. I enter the bank where my father used to work. It looks almost identical, but he’s not there. I can still do all my transactions.

Next stop, the library, I turn the year back to 2050. Our library is much better than the ones that used to exist. Our librarians have curated and published a new list. I choose this week’s virtual reads and magazines.

I hover along the long high street where all destinations face and send everyone on my friends’ list a wave just to let them know I’m here. You can’t expect just to meet people by chance. If they fancy a chat, we can meet up in the pub to talk about old times, friends, and hobbies. Sam responds; his avatar looks hale, just like mine. We chat and watch the world go by through the beers; it’s not quite the same.

When it’s time to go, we only have to press return, and back home we are.

So easy to jump from a personal encounter to a group assembly to a crowded concert. Places with no in-between, convenience versus physical contact.

The social tribe should always win out.