Balloonheads
Clouds and skyscrapers stretch endlessly into the distance, but only in somber hues. A vast grayness dominates the monochrome cityscape as if the planet itself comprises only dirt, asphalt, concrete, and beams of iron and steel.
Same as every other morning, I lower my gaze and mind my business. Dull and conformist strangers walking past me do the same. Most of us live parallel lifestyles that include punching in for work, eating without pay, clocking out, going home, and preparing for another day of work. Clouds and skyscrapers stretch endlessly into the distance, but only in somber hues. A vast grayness dominates the monochrome cityscape as if the planet itself comprises only dirt, asphalt, concrete, and beams of iron and steel. Nature used to be a beautiful entity, but the plants and animals have been gone much longer than I have been alive. The Age of Trees was a prehistoric era riddled with death, decay, and disease, but this Age of Computers is ultramodern and far beyond being called futuristic. This is a time without progress, for nothing needs to change when everything is supposedly perfect.
A man loitering near my place of employment lifts his head. Fed up with this dreary existence where we only live to stay alive, he taps his foot and snaps his fingers a total of three times. Opening his mouth to sing a tune, the police arrive before he can so much as utter a note. Robotic arms…
