I've been writing about a distopian future world, so I guess it should come as no surprise to find myself in one. This world was run by a computer system, and people were indoctrinated (okay, brainwashed) into being good citizens. Right as I was about to be brainwashed, the computer system crashed. Apparently, this was a common occurrence, and the clerks (think DMV clerks) just shrugged it off and passed me through to the transport station. There was someone who tried to sabotage the whole system, and he was already there, belted in and waiting. One of the guards was asking me the guy's name, but I couldn't remember. I pretended like I did, but I told him the wrong information. This was not intentional, because I still bought into the system and thought everything was fine. While we were being transported, the rebel threw a pencil and caused a huge commotion. Pencils were evil because people could use them to communicate and pass on information. Finally we landed and the guards locked me up, thinking that I was also a rebel. They started stripping away my personality. Then suddenly I coughed up a pencil. Havoc insued.
It was an office, not unlike any of the other offices around the city. There were windows, visible to the lucky few cubes on the ends of the rows. Then there was Vera's cube, situated next to the row of manager's offices. Today she was lucky, someone had left their door open and precious slant of sunlight escaped, warming her back and washing out half of her computer screen. "I never realized your hair was red," Tracy dumped a large stack of paper on her desk, "The florescent lights make everything look so soupy." "What is that?" she pointed at the stack of paper. Tracy only offered compliments when he wanted a favor. "I need this entered," he smiled, a dimple appearing in his cheek. "You have a secretary," Vera waved a freckled hand to her left, "Ask him." "He's sick," Tracy gave her puppy-dog eyes, batting his long dark eyelashes. Vera sighed and fought back a smile. Tracy was such a s...