Ill Be More Patient Later (working title): Part 1 And so once again he shut the window. Luke didnt know what the problem was each time, and he never wanted to ask. Hed see them out in the front or just walking around sometimes, and he figured to himself not to give them any other thing they didnt need to worry about. And honestly he didnt care; it wasnt his business. Hed casually wave and be polite, and they would reciprocate with noticeable hesitation. Especially Mrs. Brooks. She always seemed cautious, but it wasnt Lukes idea to lead them on into what he had heard, what he knew, or what he didnt; nor was it his place to. So he continued to smile and he continued to wave, and he just continued to shut the window when he needed to. Every passing hour with every passing day, Luke would need to find a new topic of thought to get him through his work day. What his next meal was, what one of his coworkers, Leanne, had to say today during break about the glorious and o so thrilling agendas of her life, what happened in the last book he read, the next project he would inject himself into to excuse the potential he had given up as a younger man, why Mrs. Brooks didnt just leave him; she was beautiful, she seemed smart or at least like she was smart in a previous life; there would be another life for her wherever she went, and he didnt understand. Max had been working at The Department for Integrity in Higher Justice for almost sixteen years now since 2042, two years after its inception. He hated it; he despised it; and eventually learned to despise himself. He knew they were screwing people over and he knew it was just another notch in the long belt of cheap and backwards institutions the government had used to hang its individuals with. Luke used to be one of those individuals. At some point, along with most of the rest of the country, he grew systematically exhausted of trying to act or even thinking for himself. Now he was a part of it. He was one of the kinks and one of the cogs drawing oil to a great and omnipotent machine of suppression and corruption. However, they did pay well, and there was benefits. At the end of everyday Luke would walk into the warp port, punch in his address code, and be transported back home where he would look for any excuse to justify his wasteful and lost existence. He hated himself. He hated himself for who he was, and he hated himself for what he lost. And he was scared to make any change he wanted. What could I do? he sometimes thought. If he wanted to start a different career and do something else, he would just be thrown into another Career Assessment and Training program and be lumped into another blockaded branch of a corporate and government ran typhoon of pedaling cattle nothingness. And hed be back at the bottom of all that, scraping desperately to get back to a position he was already in. If he chose to try to fight, or do anything different, he would just be removed like the rest of them. Then hed be put in a file that was kept at the Department for Integrity in Higher Justice, and compromise whatever security anyone that ever knew him had left. He was just another broken individual in a society full of them. He was actually grateful to still be rightfully miserable about it. Anthony Cresci© 2015
Posted on: Wed, 07 Jan 2015 22:00:37 +0000
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