domingo, 31 de agosto de 2008

buried feelings

[Somewhere, in a colony under the Earth]

-466-R.

-466-R, come to the window please.

-I can’t believe it; working from one day to the infinity. Doing the same work day to day just like an ant. ‘Damn the day the Nuclear World started’ my great-grandpa used to say . ‘Someone pressed the button and Blam!’ Now we’re living like worms in these colonies under the Earth.

-466-R, please!

-I hate this place. There’s no room for creativity nor feelings-We’re treated just like machines. I remember my great-grandpa’ stories; stories about a world full of things that i’ve never seen before. But the most important thing was that people had something called a name.

-Next!

-Next... who cares? They’re all pathetic fools who haven’t noticed they’re dead. From the moment they received a code number, they’re dead meat. Sadly, I also have a code number: 468-R. In my deepest memories, I remember my great-grandpa’ stories... when he named me Michael and I liked it. He told me that I’d never have to forget that word... It would be my name, my identity, my body and my soul. Michael...

-Next.

-My turn...

-468-R.

-I’m not a number...I’m Michael.

-468-R please...

-My great-granparent told me once that a wonderful world is outside, but the only way to reach that place is leaving this one...

-468-R now!

-Maybe it’s time to visit that place...

[people running]

...

...

...

The next day, some office workers were talking about the incident ocurred.

-So, what did it happen yesterday?

-Uhm... a guy commited suicide...

-Oh, I see... and did you know him?

-I think he was 468-R maybe, maybe not...

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