He looked at the shadows of his past through the door. The wooden benches and antique pillar did not belong to this age, but told a compelling story. The sight of people beyond that door was familiar, though the language they spoke was alien. He tightened his grip on the globe, where he had perched himself.
One had to get out of the planet, to get a complete view. Maybe, in future, this body will look strange and unfamiliar. And he will try to make sense of all the extensions he has. Signals can be received through a single touch-point.
Inspired by Friday Fictioneers by Rochelle Wisoff
Prompt picture: Shaktiki Sharma