I predict devices that eliminate the need for sleep, remove the will to cry, large metal straws that suck the light from the sun, clear domes bursting with oxygen on alien planets, a barren ball of scorched rock under blue sky. I predict us moving, leaving, flying. I predict bodies that never die, minds that have outgrown natural decay, eyes that never lose sight because how can they when they’re made of metal and wires. I predict machines replacing the value of people. I predict us losing control so slowly that it’s an unnoticeable, almost natural, decay. I predict no mourners for our planet because we have built a million identical replicas across the universe. I predict the human race using technology to cling to the fabric of reality, like a virus battling against a vaccine, fighting a war that results in the death of the host.