Opening Lines – Living Future
The building was obviously alive, the way it sighed and shuddered and sometimes even shrieked. Which was yet another thing he could never get used to about the future.
They’d given him counseling sessions when he came out of cryo-sleep. It was legally required they’d told him. That, and they weren’t going to let him out until he signed a sheaf of non-disclosure agreements and waivers against future lawsuits.
Looking back on it, the litigious nature of society was probably the only thing he could go to as a comforting constant if he was so inclined.
In the future, people moved about in nano-active clouds of advertisement and social media, speaking a digitized shorthand of a half-dozen world languages with a mixture of programming code.
Fashion, architecture, even social policy and law were constantly being crowd-sourced and restructured on the fly to better suit the desire of the masses.
One morning he left his looming, hard-edged dark green government-funded housing. When he came home, it was bright pink and like something out of a Guadi nightmare.
Streets rearranged themselves as people walked on them. Songs changed genres as they played, hoping to stay current with the times.
Permanence was dead, dashed on the rocks by the oncoming tide of progress.
The only friend he’d made was a girl, frozen a century after him. They’d taken to each other, probably two of the only people in a hundred miles who didn’t use some form of electronic aid to speak to each other.
They were strangers in a strange land, but together in that strangeness.
That is until they’d tried to make love one night. When they’d taken off their adaptive-polymer coveralls, she’d begun to cry. And he had thrown up.
They weren’t compatible.
Another of the 300 word bits from Lindsey’s Opening Lines prompts.Like this piece? Click here to vote it to the top!