Dominik Thomas
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Stories (1/0)
The Melancholy of a Dystopian Gentlemen
Well. Here I am again. Seems this is my life now. Rummaging for hours through endless garbage and clutter, looking for something that could just as well not even exist. What a life to live. Five-thousand credits. That’s all I needed to get on that bus and be done with all of this. Avalon is offering maintenance jobs that are hiring on the spot in Waco City and are transporting people by the bus load to take up the offer. Room and board included. I wanted nothing more than to be anywhere but this dreary old city, working for this less than accommodating corporation. A crisis scouring unit. Humph. That title was nothing more than a fancy name for a premium custodian with minimal detective skills. Oh well. Where would I get that kind of money from, anyway? It was wishful thinking… So here I am again. Searching for nothing in a place that’s as good as nowhere. The joy of life. What even is any of this stuff? If I had to take a guess, I would say that this used to be some sort of warehouse or factory, based on the multitude of complicated machinery and the litter of hazardous debris scattered throughout the place. There were bicycle parts, moldy old teddy bears and… wait. What is that? Under a pile of rubble sat something that seemed to stand out from the rest of it. It was a little black notebook bound by a sturdy black elastic strap that seemed to be a bit worn from time but also seemed to be in some sort of good shape still. I would normally look over an item like this one but it seemed so out of place here and I didn’t have much hope of finding anything else. I picked it up and opened it to find that it was mostly empty aside from loggings on the first three pages. I knew it wasn’t long until we would be given our lunch break. There also wasn’t anything more obviously interesting, nor was it much to read, so I sat down on one of the metal stools in the room and began reading the first log. It read:
By Dominik Thomas3 years ago in Futurism