cyber punk non-fic
The sky was the color of a web browser open to a blank page. Rain drizzled on my umbrella as I walked down the city sidewalk on my way home from my day job.
Something on the rain slick asphalt caught my eye. It was a small silver tube a few millimeters wide and three centimeters long; the battery from a disposable e-cig.
I stooped down and picked it up. It was already damaged, likely run over. "Cyber trash" I muttered under my breath as I flicked it away. "Welcome to 2020."
@wxcafe yes do not do that. a phonetically compatible replacement is "damn".
If we want to get *really* scifi, maybe these hypothetical carbon capture machines could construct *themselves* out of captured carbon, possibly using some kind of tiny pod containing most of the materials needed to get started as well as the information to construct the entire machine... Maybe these pods could, themselves, be made through carbon capture using the same machines, making them self-replicating without any technical skills needed
But this is all some kind of absurd pipe dream, of course. It's not like self-replicating material-producing carbon capture machines grow on trees
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