The Simulation

     It was a pleasant day in the humble town of Pleasantville. Spring had rolled in and heralded the blooming of vibrant flowers, and the chirping of sprite little songbirds. John Doe got up from bed at 7:00 AM sharp, He trudged towards his bathroom, brushing his teeth and taking a brief shower before getting dressed and readying himself to tackle the day ahead. He scarfed down a quick breakfast - a hashbrowns, his favorite - and kissed his wife, Jane, goodbye, before rushing to catch the bus.

    He waved to the bus driver, a kindly old woman named Agatha, before settling at the window seat. As he watched the humble homes of Pleasantville fade from view and the bold, bright, buildings of the nearby city draw nearer, he thought about his incoming work day. The team had just finished up a big project, so today they'd be able to take a breather working out the last few bits of paperwork. He was eager for the company party they'd be having on Friday to celebrate the project's completion. It wouldn't be anything extravagant, of course - they only had so much money after all - but it was just a nice chance to unwind with some food and drink and talk with his fellow coworkers. He was particularly partial to the roast ham and mashed potatoes they served. He remembered being so mad at Liam when he got drunk and poured the entire punch bowl onto the potatoes in some botched "science experiment" - but thinking back on it now, it made a fun story (even if the potatoes tasted radioactive). 

    Suddenly, he was wrenched from his thoughts by an odd feeling in his chest. He looked around for the source of his unease, noticing that the woman in the seat across from him had stopped moving mid-conversation. A closer look revealed that not only the entire bus, but the entire city appeared to be frozen in time. Everything from his fellow passengers to the cars on the road to the pigeons flocking in the air were perfectly still. Concerned, he yelled at the woman beside him, hoping to snap her out of her stupor. When that didn't work, he began lightly shaking her back-and-forth. Still, the woman did not react, instead flopping against her seat like a ragdoll. 

    Out of options, he pressed the emergency exit button to open the bus doors and stepped out along the open road. Being so close to a high-speed vehicle made John uneasy, but he reminded himself that he had no choice. It wasn't like he could get to work like this, anyways! Now, while one might think that trying to find the cause of some invisible cataclysm would be a fruitless effort, John was struck with some odd intuition about where he needed to go, almost as if whatever caused this wanted to be found. He weaved through rows of perfectly still people, across roads and through alleyways, until he finally found what he knew, was the source of the disaster. It was the Chef-D'oeuvre, the tallest tower in the city. Lined with bright and flashy advertisements that stood unsettlingly still, and covered head to toe in vibrant glass windows, it was a symbol of the city's progress and prosperity - and the perfect place for someone who wished to be found.

    Despite being only a few yards from his office building, John had never seen the Chef-D'oeuvre in person before. He was never the adventurous type, and preferred to stick to a fairly rigid routine. But now that he had seen the skyscraper for himself, he was awestruck. As an architect, he could recognize the modernist beauty of the design, even through the obnoxious ads plastered over its surface. Soon, he had gotten completely lost in the sights of the city, everything from the picnic benches under the large oak tree to the ice cream man doling out sweet treats to lines of excited children. He would have never paid these small details any mind before, but with the world on pause he had plenty of time to just... take it all in.

    Suddenly, he was jolted out of his stupor by an almost invisible force and reminded of his mission. He rushed into the lobby and towards the elevator door, pushing the button to go to the very top floor. As the elevator hummed along, John was filled with a sudden sense of dread. He had no clue what he was even facing or if he was even going to face anything, but that only added to the terror. But once again, John reminded himself that he didn't have a choice. Not like he could go to work like this, anyways. So, he took a deep breath, stepped out onto the top floor... only to be greeted by nothing. Confused, he took a look around, when suddenly - the world began dissolving around him. Everything from the picnic benches, to the ice cream man, to the very balcony he was standing on - all vanished into nothing but ones and zeroes. Then a commanding, almost heavenly voice boomed from the empty expanse. 

    "Hello, John."  The voice declared. The sudden noise caused John to flinch, though he quickly schooled his expression and put on a brave face. "My name is of no importance to you. All you must know of is my role. I am what you mortals would describe as "God", though I prefer to call myself "The Artist". I have brought you here today to bestow upon you the ultimate truth of this world." 

    "And why are you telling me this?" John asked, perplexed. "I'm not super rich, or powerful, or anything like that. I was just truing to get to work, when you decided to interrupt with-" He gesuted around himself. "-whatever all this is."

    "And that is exactly why I chose you. You're irrelevant. A grain of sand in the vast desert of the universe. But I can make you more than that. Into a vast sandstorm, sweeping through the desert, molding those who choose to stand still and listen." 

    "Sounds like a bunch of nonsense to me." John retorted, exasperated. "Just stop with the flowery language and get to the point. What is this "forbidden knowledge" that you sent me to get? And what's with all these numbers flying around me?"

    "It should have been obvious by now, but I guess you mortals need a bit of... assistance." The voice replied, irritated. "Your world, and everything in it,. is just a simulation. Every person you've met, every place you've been, every emotion you've felt - none of it is real. To us, your lives, your struggle, your accomplishments - are nothing but entertainment to us. Does that satisfy you?"

    John was at a loss for words. Such a revelation would be shocking to anyone, after all. But after just a minute, his expression shifted into a smirk. "You really though that'd be enough to break me, huh?"

    "WHAT?" The voice shouted, enraged. "You're a background character! You're not even important in your own story! The only reason you exist is to fill space!" 

    "And why should I care what some petty little voice thinks I should be? I lived 30 long years of my life never even noticing this "simulation"! What's 30 more? I don't care if my wonderful wife, or little old Agatha who drives me to work every morning, or my favorite roast ham, or the children outside lining up for ice cream, or even this pretty little tower I'm standing on right now, aren't ACTUALLY real. Because those memories, those feelings... are real as day to me."

    "I've granted you enlightenment. I've shown you truths that the wealthy and powerful would pay anything to get. And you don't even want to share a crumb of your knowledge?"

    "Let me ask you: what would that achieve? I'm perfectly happy where I am now - I have a loving family and a well-paying job in a nice town. I don't care about being immortalized as some "great sandstorm of knowledge" or whatever you were going on and on about. And even if I cared about this "enlightenment", it's not like anyone would believe me. Like you said earlier, I'm just a "side character". Why would anyone believe me? If I both can't do anything about it or want to do anything about it, then why should I worry? Now, can you let me out of your hair?"

    The voice, exasperated, let out a deep sigh, before announcing "Fine. Go off then. Feel free to live in your little lie. I'll return everything back to normal, just so you can continue to live out your insignificant little life." 

    "And that is all I ask." John said. 

    Soon, everything faded to black, before John was right back where he was. The buildings of the city were scrolling by as usual, as was the woman beside him, who was now listening to music on her phone. He smiled, and continued peering out of the window. Maybe he'd take a detour to the Chef-D'oeuvre after work, and actually see it in person. After all, it'd be nice to see the place when it isn't frozen in time. 

(This was my attempt at a short story. I've seen the question of "What if the world was a simulation?" pop up a lot online, and so this is basically my response to that. Personally, I just never understood what the big deal would be. If the people we meet and the memories we make feel so real already - then why should I care if it's actually some simulation? But that's just my 2 cents. If you have a different perspective on this, I'd be happy to listen. Anyways, see you in 2034 when I come out of hibernation to post another blog.)