Metal Dorms

Part 1

      One could only feel the heat of it all,  growing up in a cyborg world. Humanity was less human and more metal,  love waxed cold even babies were no longer fragile. Over the years it could be said we were being smelted back when we still loved,  but now the molten had cooled infact in the process of shaping.
      Waking up to the cyborg cops on patrol had become the norm. The sound of their metal feet colliding with the stone-cold floors was our alarm clock. Our overalls were grey now,  I chuckle,  gone were the days when prison clothes were still bright now they were dismal. The days when prison cells had a window now you couldn't even look outside. The artificial sun: the light bulb of 75W was all there was to provide the hope of escape the sun once did.
        Gone,  even were the days where cellmates were based on gender and here I was locked in and locked out with konk criminals. I admit the first two years were more sword what am I saying guns than talk. Although there were other female inmates it was every man for himself as the resistance had told me almost three years ago right before I got captured.
        The hot water had gotten quickly gotten cold but hyperactive atoms like myself would certainly cause trouble. The cold world however had their ways of blowing out frivolous candles like the look the chief judge had shot me from the beginning to the end of my undebated trial. I sat on the rafis mat given to us by the inmates at least cyborgs understood the need for comfort but not in humanities way. The raffia mats reminded me of Nigeria my homeland. The fuel that had thrust me into helping the resistance in the first place. Some of them were Ignorant.

The lingering fear of what would happen to my motherland caused me to do this. Now I was in too deep. Inmates all around me each one be grieved by his or her own thoughts. We rarely spoke. Somehow we managed to understand a certain body language. The thought of unity was a somber experience I never thought would last: guns were always at the ready. Alas the humane part of me needed to trust someone, at least. And they were ready at the go. smells of hot 'concodine' ( prison food ) stung my nostril. Robots or Human robots understood the need for another kind to eat.

In 2050 food was outdated. It still existed but was rare. Pills were the new norm. The resistance was the only similarity to humans the resistance didn't convince. In the past few months, the feigned patience the new world order was running out.

They let us watch the news on their hologram device stomachs so we'd know our all fights were a waste. Their tactics never seemed to work on me though I watched all the same, no matter how hard it was there was joy in fooling your enemy.

Inmates didn't kill for food, not in this cell. Despite that fact, I caught unbecoming glares at my bowl a question to our "unity".