You get up early, before dawn, because you have to walk from the area you live to the place you work. You have a bike but don’t use it because you’re renting it to a guy who does delivery services. You walk through the quiet streets – quiet because people are mostly still asleep and because no cars are running. You might, if you’re an optimist and a romantic, enjoy the sunrise as you stroll along and you might smile at the bird songs. You may find yourself whistling a song that you used to hear on the web. If you are lucky and the wind is kind, you might find yourself taking deep lungfuls of air. Often you’ll wear a paper mask, probably grey at that point, to protect yourself from the smoke of garbage fires. The city doesn’t pay it’s garbage collectors to come to your neighborhood any more, not since some enterprising folks hijacked a few garbage trucks and attempted to breach the fortifications around city hall.
Optimist or pessimist, you would eventually arrive at the guarded perimeter of an area protected by the government from people like you. The only reason you can get through that perimeter is your credentials which mark you as an essential worker (because we all know the bourgeoisie can’t get by without their espresso coffee drinks). Walking through through the gate or barricade, the difference will be immediately apparent. Inside the sidewalks are kept clear, the air is fresher – unless it’s one of those days when the wind’s unkind – and evidence of comfort are plentiful.
You arrive at your job and during the occasional lulls in business, you use the wifi at work and check the news. The network bans most of the news sources you want to see, so you’re stuck catching up with the latest propaganda from approved sources.
You could have skipped it because all you need to do is listen to the sheeple coming into the coffee shop to know what the government is telling them to believe.
Clientele comes in relentlessly coiffed and polished, like spoiled pets. And you stifle a laugh at that thought because that’s really what they are – the precious pets of the corporatocracy. You do your best to hide your grimace behind a smile as two women start to talk about current events. You know that even if you take them to where current events are actually happening, these horses won’t drink.
One: Did you hear about the uprising in Chicago?
The Other: Oh my god, that was awful. I can’t imagine why the people in those neighborhoods put up with it. If that happened here, I’d step right up and turn them in.
One: I know, it’s unbelievable. I don’t see why they can’t cooperate with the government. Is it so hard to follow the rules?
The Other: Well, you know, I don’t think those people have much respect for this country.
One: It’s such a shame, they don’t have to live like that, it’s as if they can’t help themselves.
Don’t grind your teeth, you can’t afford the dental bills. If you could get to see a dentist. There aren’t many people doing medicine anymore, of any kind, they can’t afford it.
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