I dream of finding myself under a roof of blue sky, in a field illuminated by the midday sun and yellow sunflowers, surrounded by the scent of wet grass and the music of songbirds and insects buzzing. Then I open my eyes and remember that I am Zach Moreland, 142 years old, and I will never die. The ceiling is white, the walls are white and every day at 08:00 the nurses come out of the nurses' station to wake up the residents. My nurse is one of the older models from when they all came with a flashing red light on the upper chest. It is often the only element of color visible in the Institute of Life where I live. Jason, my roommate, has a newer model nurse, but Jason is only 104 years old. In the bathroom area I walk naked and feel the heat of the synthetic HdeA misting on my body. As I walk, I remember a time long ago when bathing meant soaking in hot water, so hot it made my skin red, and I would stay in the tub until my toes shriveled. My nurse brings me clothes as I leave my daily biotic bath. I am presented with white pants, white underwear, white shirt, white socks and white shoes. I'm allowed to dress myself. I try to put my pants on while standing, balancing my weight on my left leg as I slide my right leg into my pants. “There's a chance you could fall,” the nurse says. “Please use caution. I recommend you sit in a chair to put on pants, socks or shoes,” my nurse says. His voice is familiar, almost human, but without the cadence of emotion or concern. “You would never let me fall. You're a computer, be logical, there's no way I can hurt myself," I say. "Your health is my only concern," the nurse replies. The technology to perpetuate them...... middle of paper... ....thought he was feeling something again. We stand still for just a moment to see where we have come. The snow covers everything, as far as we can see, glittering in the afternoon sun. We hear a bird singing and see a red cardinal perched on a blue spruce against a blue sky that reaches up to the blanket of snow, Jason starts to cry in an explosion of excitement. Then he falls to the ground laughing and crying like a child she clutches her chest and some others are breathless but smiling, some find a place to lie down in peace or make angels in the snow, then stare at the yellow sun. Becca hands me a synthetic apple she's been keeping from breakfast. She says, "Here, in case you get hungry later." He's still speaking in code. I spread my arms, as wide as the distant horizon, and take a step forward.