Chapter 7
290 Words
7
The appointment had been a welcome respite from her lack of routine, but it had made her miss breakfast. To her great relief, two trays awaited her outside the room—breakfast and lunch at once.
She unveiled the trays and picked just the best parts from each: the coffee, which was somehow still warm; a bowl of berries; perfectly roasted brussels sprouts; lasagna with crispy cheese.
She left the oatmeal, gone cold and thick with the hours.
The Community was advertised as an experiment in the future of living. People with stellar credentials and no better prospects could join and be coddled the way only the most elite engineers once were, within a tech giant’s corporate wonderland, testing their new products and avoiding the worst of the newly broken seasons. It was a job, though a strange one.
This part had to end soon.
She had many hours still before her and nothing more to do with them than the day before. There had to be a way to turn on the screen: it couldn’t be there just for the aesthetic.
She ran her fingers along its edges, feeling for anything that might be a button. Nothing.
She scrutinized the perimeters of the bed and the chair and the trim around the walls. Maybe she would find a light switch while she was at it.
Nothing.
Sometime before dinner she gave up and sat on the edge of the bed, tapping one foot, trying to tell herself a story. She’d never been good at that kind of thing, but surely a story would come to her, given enough empty time. Think pieces constantly lamented the end of boredom and what that meant for Western creativity. Well, she was bored now.
Once upon a time there was.
Beginning, middle.
The hero’s journey.
The end.
- Writer
