Cutting Floor
#4 of Short Stories
A short story, just playing around with the idea of a utopian world, inspired by bioshock, we happy few, and a particular overdue assignment.
The twenty square acres of entrancing, if formalized beauty of the park, crossed by pathways so convenient that they might have been purposefully designed to lead from one centre of power to another, must he thought, have heard more secrets than any other part of New London.
"Hey, check these out," Talya nudged Hector, pressing a clutch of film, a wry smile plastered on her lips.
"Where did you find these?" He asked, tone suspicious and brow furrowed. He held the film squares gingerly, the wrinkles looking like they will crumble at a touch.
"No where," Talya laughed.
"No where illegal, I hope," Hector muttered, "These look valuable."
Hector took a closer look at the photograph, making out two figures, it was what looked like a man, and a woman standing behind a white arch of a sort.
"Late 3000s?" Hector asked, tilting his head.
"Early 2000s" Came a curt reply. Talya jammed her hand into her pocket, and leant against the stone wall behind her.
Hector had half the mind to tell her to stop, and prevent her dirtying her pristine white clothes any further, but there was no telling Talya she couldn't do what she wanted. Sure, she acted proper as she was supposed to infront of everyone else that mattered, but behind the watchful gaze of the elders and the regulators, she couldn't give half a rat's ass about following the conformity everyone was supposed to.
"Don't you wonder how life was like in the olden days? Before the Final Revolution in 3042?" Talya asked, crossing her arms and tilting her head.
Hector winced a little out of disgust. "Absolutely horrible," he spat "People were fighting over measly things, there wasn't a proper centralised government, and not everyone had enough money to live comfortably."
"Ah, but that's what the education system tells you." Talya smirked. "History is written by the victors after all."
Hector didn't reply to that, he simply hummed his disapproval and turned the photos over. He noticed that the nano-coating's running a little thin on one edge, and made a mental note not to touch it too much.
"What a time it must have been," Tayla said, dreamily, "Wearing clothes different from everyone else, where you can say whatever you want and not worry about it."
"Yeah, and you can also die of hunger because you're too poor to afford food." Hector snapped, returning the photographs gingerly.
"Look around you, Talya. Everything around you is perfect. Everyone around you is happy. You die when you choose to, everyone can afford what they want." said a frustrated Hector.
"But this isn't us." Talya frowned. "This isn't human. They're turning us into sheep."
"Then be glad then that they've gotten rid of all the wolves."