A work of art never turns out quite as you expect, but you can usually guarantee you’ll be disappointed. That’s not to say it wasn’t worth creating in the first place, just that your goal wasn’t fully realised. It’s not quite the way you wanted it to be.

This, the Boulevard, was like that. Where some saw a fascinatingly deep universe filled with dark corners to disappear into, bright lights to dazzle and distract, Adlai saw a lost opportunity. It was very far from what he’d intended.

“Do you think God’s ever disappointed with himself?”

The bartender continued to ignore him. That was ok, he wasn’t expecting an answer.

The frustrating thing was he no longer even remembered what it was he had been trying to do, what he’d aimed for. He just knew he’d missed.

There were glimpses. A place where users would plug in and confront their dreams, confront possibility and begin to understand the nature of their own lives. A place to explore what it was to be human. A church in which to confront God.

Now? Now it was a playground.

He knew it while he was sitting in their little meetings, being drawn along by their enthusiasm, knew it while he was letting his eyes wander over Gretchen, letting her dig her claws into him. He knew it especially when he wandered down the Boulevard alone, watching the users fumble about in their new world. It had to end. The question was what was worth saving.

A large part of being human, of consciousness, is not understanding what drives you. You float along on top of a tide of unconsciousness, hidden agendas and desires that push and pull you in different directions, directions you never had any intention of heading in, directions you never even knew existed. Possibility.

Trying to whittle it all down to the essence of what life was all about was destined to be unsuccessful, disappointing. Not what you intended. Still, that didn’t mean it wasn’t worth doing. After all, maybe someone else, some stranger you wandered into on the Boulevard one night, maybe they could stumble into their own answers. Your job was to allow them that chance.

Adlai motioned to the bartender and flicked through some code.

“Let’s hear it one more time.”

The bartender stood directly in front of him. His eyes lost focus as the old program was run through him once again.

“Art exists that one may recover the sensation of life; it exists to make one feel things, to make the stone stony. The purpose of art is to impart the sensation of things as they are perceived and not as they are known.”

Two steps to the left and he was back in his usual place, unaware of what had just passed through him.

Was that what had become of this place for Adlai, was it just another reflection of what his work might have been? Another failure?

Adlai took up his glass again and let his mind drift away.