"1-2-2377" Part 1

THE DATE IS JANUARY 2ND , 2377. GOOD MORNING!

Die.

Fucking alarm clock. I sit up in bed and stare at it for about ten minutes until my eyes begin to cross. A small robot that looks to be a cross between a cricket and a bear slides across the floor. A smooth, white material that was not invented until about 200 years from when I would have died by natural causes. This little abomination stops at my feet and stares at me with its unblinking soulless eyes. These things can smile. I didn’t like it so I disabled its mouth. Now everything it says comes out slightly muffled and low.

“good morning, rod” it chirps/sings at me. “what are your plans for the day?”

I didn’t like when my ex-wife asked me that question and I don’t like baby machines doing it. Fucking future. Its nothing like it was supposed to be. I stand and kick at this thing and it moves. I end up kicking a small metal table next to my bed instead. I cut my big toe and the robot panics. Other smaller robots rush into the room and immediately administer care. I shoo them away and stand on the platform that will take me into the kitchen.

I miss real food. I look at the fridge and its door becomes translucent. Translucent? I would’ve beaten myself up for using that word in my own time period. Why do I even bother checking? it’s the same shit that was in there last night. I would kill for a real hamburger. Not this synthetic crap they pass off as a hamburger. I’m the only person that complains. Anyone that would’ve known what real beef tasted like died 134 years ago.

“have a great day” that little thing sings to me. It followed me to the kitchen.

“Piss off” I tell it. This time I don’t kick at it. I throw a spoon. The spoon stops mid-air and floats onto the counter. I quickly grab a towel and cover my nose. The gas starts pumping through a vent in the ceiling. “They” sensed my emotions getting out of control and decided I needed a boost of happiness. I’ll get to who “They” are later. Right now I have to work.

I step out onto the streets happy that I didn’t have to speak to any of my neighbors. I look to the sky and its empty. Not a flying car in sight. They say by the year 2400 the skies will be littered with them. Sure. That’s what they said when I was a kid and that was in 2102. I start my 2 mile walk to work with my head down. In this time period everyone greets you loudly. I don’t know what happened over time but the world decided that silence was not necessary and everything became one cacophonous orchestra of sound. The only time there’s silence is when I’m sleeping and even then the robots try to sing me lullabies‘.

I arrive to work and race to my cubicle. I guess its not really a cubicle as much as its an invisible cell. No one believes in privacy anymore. If you take a shit everyone knows how many sticks of cinnamon you used. Don’t get me started on the cinnamon sticks…