He leaned back against the musty upholstered chair and
sighed, inhaling the stale smoky air trapped within the air-conditioned room.
He rubbed his bleary, injected eyes wearily and tapped the fingernail of his
right index finger on the left-hand button of the greasy mouse. The flickering
images on the computer screen darted back and forth. He swore softly as his
avatar, a young English soldier, hit the ground in a hail of bullets and
slumped down woodenly into a pool of digital, pixelated blood.
His glance flitted towards the road beyond the glass
walls. It was still dim but he could see the incipient dawn peeping above the
tops of the shophouse roofs and skyscrapers. A few cars were zooming past on
their way to work. He could see an elderly Chinese gentleman, skin burnt brown
by years of exposure to the harsh equatorial sunlight, rummaging through the
dustbin outside and salvaging aluminium cans, placing them inside a stained
white sack. The fruit seller across the road was setting up his stall for the
day, arranging waxy luscious pineapples, apples, oranges and pears under a
makeshift fluorescent lamp swinging precariously overhead.
He drew out a few crumpled red notes from his worn leather
wallet and slipped them under the ashtray next to the keyboard. Abu would know
where to find the money, as always. He pushed his chair back and stood up to
leave. In the cavernous space behind him, a few other avid night-owls were
still typing away furiously or manipulating their game personas mechanically,
peering at the giant illuminated screens glowing softly in the darkness.
His stomach protested, growling hungrily. It was time for
breakfast. He had skipped dinner the night before, not needing physical
nourishment while he was engrossed in his virtual existence. He opened the
glass door and stepped outside, the sharp fumes of the city hitting his
nostrils and jolting him from his state of reverie. KFC would be a good choice,
he thought. It was just down the road. He would have the porridge, he thought
to himself. Yes, it would be an imminently good choice. He would return to the
cybercafe again after breakfast…
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