Dishwasher

I fill up the dishwasher, place a capsule inside and press ‘Start’. It takes around an hour and a half to get rid of all the stains and bacteria. The plates, pans, mugs, glasses all come out clean and almost like new. Sometimes the water pressure chips a piece of a plate or scratches a glass, but the chance it happens is small, and the odds are definitely worth it. When I think about it, I wish I could get inside and let the water wash off all the worries, anxiety and thoughts, leaving me pure and clean like a newborn baby.

We stand in a queue that’s spreading like a snake across the whole tiny planet. There might be around 400 of us waiting so close to each other that we are touching. The air is so hot that it creates a fog on the ground, no sign of a breeze. Patches of strange-looking dark green plants cover parts of the sandy field. Even though I can’t see any birds, I can hear them chirping all around me, breaking the uncomfortable tense silence.

‘Next,’ the dark blue soldier says and forces the first 12 creatures in the queue to get in. Some of them are fighting, but the guards overrule them and push them inside the weird-looking cubicles, slamming the door behind them.

The door opens after an hour and a half, and they all come out. Naked. Their fur is completely shaved off, and their eyes colour changed from brown to light blue. Eleven of them are dumbly smiling, but the one from the last cubicle is hysterically crying, shaking, not able to move. His fur is ripped off only on ninety per cent of his body, and his eyes are mustard yellow.

The guards take his arms and drag him to the pit on the right side of the lot. No one from the queue moves, and no one even dares to look in that direction. We hear a heart-breaking scream, then mechanical noise, then quiet.

‘Next,’ the same soldier yells, but no one moves forward. Everyone takes a few steps back, some of us start to run away. They get not even a few metres away when a pack of black, two-metre-tall hounds surround them, forcing them to get back in the queue. We must all look terrified, but that does not stop the guards from forcing us to move forward.

I hear a high pitch cry behind me. I turn around only to see a 2-year-old green baby Mush, scanning the surrounding with his brown eyes, terrified. He lays eyes on someone five creatures behind him and starts to run towards it. The soldier yells something at him in a language I do not understand, but when he doesn’t stop, a loud shot echoes in the otherwise silenced place. The cry stops.

‘Next,’ the soldier raises his voice, ignoring what just happened, and stabs the first creature with his sword-sized needle, forcing it to move. I can see all 11 of them shaking in front of me while walking closer to the washing buildings. I stay still, not able to move until I feel an acute pain in my side. It’s my turn as well.

With hesitation, I get in and watch the door closing behind me. It is so dark I cannot even see my own hands. The red light suddenly lights up above the door, and a stream of hot water slaps my face and starts to fill the whole room. I am trying to get out, but there is no handle, no button, nothing. I’m screaming, but I can’t hear anything. In a couple of seconds, the water reaches the ceiling, and my lungs start to fill up with water.

Where am I? A ray of light hits my eyes, and my legs start automatically moving. I step outside, and, like almost everyone, I turn right. After a few seconds of walking, I hear screaming. I look up — what a beautiful sky.