I sit across from Sajra, her eyes like black holes absorbing light.
She calls herself a Dream Technician.
I call her the most unsettling person I’ve ever met.
“What exactly do you do?” I ask, my pen hovering over blank paper.
She smiles. “I fix nightmares. Or break dreams. Depends on who’s paying.”
“How does that work?”
“Think of dreams as code. I’m a hacker of the subconscious…”
“But how?”
“With neurotransmitter array. It’s a mesh of nanobots that settles over the cerebral cortex during REM sleep”
I swallow hard. “Is it… legal?”
Sajra laughs, “Law hasn’t caught up with dream tech yet. We operate in the shadows of sleep.”
“We?” I ask.
Her eyes narrow. “There are others. Competitors. Some with… less savory methods.”
“Have you ever refused a job?”
Sajra’s face darkens. “Once. I don’t touch kids’ minds. There are lines even I won’t cross.”
I notice a faint shimmer at her temples – almost invisible neural implants, I realize.
I leave the interview with more questions than answers, and somehow, I’m afraid to go to sleep.


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