DYSTOPIA - A Series Chapter 2: The Glitch in the Machine
(Originally drafted and first published in June 2014)
Ever was slowly becoming one of the nightfolk, her
compulsion to escape driving her out of the safety of the Comfort Zone, a
sterile, monitored expanse where every breath was accounted for, every thought
potentially logged. The wind, however, paid no mind to the omnipresent gaze of
the public-viewing algorithms. It played with her thick black coat, billowing
it out behind her, a rogue gust intent on causing havoc in the sleeping city.
Ever dashed down dark alleyways, her Doc Martens plowing
through the bio-waste left behind by day dwellers with little regard for the
automated cleaning drones that would soon sweep through. From 8 AM to 7 PM, 360
days a year, citizens toiled in the Market Zone, their every movement optimized
for maximum output. Sundays had long ceased being sacred in an era where data,
not divinity, dictated all.
The city clean-up usually commenced in the small hours of
the morning; Ever reckoned the schedule worked; the council’s sanitation bots
could do their jobs unhindered when the Market Zone was cleared of crowds. She
had the quiet streets to herself for at least two more hours before she needed
to head back home to suburbia, to the meticulously planned and constantly
surveilled domestic units.
Ever was needing him more and more
as her job became more stressful; her mandated twelve hours of daily labor as
Mayor just weren't cutting it anymore.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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