A Frame of Dystopia

It felt like a respite to sit here with my arms around another. A fellow human radiating heat, laughing at the correct moments, savoring the greasy and sweet popcorn that coated our mouths in Buttereel. We had managed to save up enough to pay for a movie tonight. It was a classic, or so the coalition approved Unirank had said.

A large block of text appeared abruptly on the screen. “Shut down in 9, 8, 7…

I wasn’t ready to go to sleep.

6, 5, 4…

The number counting down below the three words of text commanded submission.

3, 2

As the credits began to roll, a line of white hot lightening flashed up the base of my spine-


and fire raced up my back to my brain stem spilling an inkwell across my vision, dragging me into unconsciousness.


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