Literary Fiction Science Fiction Love Strange

Brain in a Jar

By Kirsten Imani Kasai · Jan 9, 2019
4,852 words · 18-minute reading time

Plasma is beautiful.

Photo by Josh Riemer via Unsplash.

Brain in a Jar

My vessel-bound forays into the world are rare these days, but the perverse unrelenting longing for a Fernet Branca aperitif has finally roused me from my fog. Now the minders are coming to exercise and prepare my vessel for our outing. I like to give their presence my full attention. On private blogs lately, there’ve been stories about minders abusing the vessels in sordid ways. Trafficking. Snuff films. Worse. They know I have security cameras in my cell, and I’ve never experienced any trouble. All the same, it’s hard not to be paranoid when your entire essence has been reduced to a single organ isolated from corporeal sensation.

Staying awake is not the issue. Since transsection, I sleep but two hours per day in blocks of 15 to 30 minutes. Any longer than that is unnecessary and leaves me groggy. But it means I dream very little, and I miss my dreams. Even though they’re now considered a rudimentary form of “in-flight entertainment” while neuroglial cells dredge...

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