A week with eight days – the world in a hundred years.

by Harmke Horst

Good morning! Sinntag in the year 2118.

Finally the week has 8 days and the best thing about it: The weekend was extended – Saturday, Sunday, Sinntag.

But what is the point of it? Sure, more time for meaningful things.

Dreamily I opened the refrigerator. Lost in thought, I remembered that I had forgotten to go shopping. But wait – I didn’t even have to go shopping anymore, because the refrigerator notices by itself what I like and what I miss. So nothing stood in the way of a feudal breakfast.

Suddenly something vibrated – I got a call. “But where is my cell phone? – oh yes – there are no haptic cell phones anymore.”

So I pressed the nail of my little finger – the green receiver appears. “Mrs. Horst, could you use your search robot to look for a missing person?” asked the gentleman at the other end.

A quick glance in the direction of Hugo – his battery lights up green. “Yes, we’re coming,” I heard myself answer.

So Hugo and I drove to the scene. We reached an apartment of a very elderly couple. Mrs Schmidt – 118 years old – had not returned home from her walk last night.

Her implanted GPS chip – which otherwise led her back – had apparently lost the connection to her home zone. And locating the chip was also impossible for some reason.

So I typed the ten-digit GPS code of Mrs. Schmidt into Hugo’s input field and sent him on a search.

“Hopefully she wasn’t too far away, hopefully Hugo’s battery will last, hopefully she got through the night well.” Thoughts which, of course, I did not express out loud.

Suddenly Hugo flashed like crazy and became faster and faster. Single-mindedly he ran to a bank. And right there Frau Schmidt slept. She was doing well and she could embrace her husband at home.

Hugo and I drove home satisfied.

The search hero was plugged into the socket and I continued to enjoy my day and wrote a new story.

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