You
finish this afternoon, don’t you?
Yes.
I
could not keep the grin and the pride off my face.
Are
you excited about your break?
I
have been looking forward to this for five years.
Seventeen
other people have asked me the exact same two questions since morning and I
have given them the same two answers. Sometimes I wonder whether we all are pre-programmed
robots.
To
say that I am looking forward to this break is an understatement. I leapt out
of my couch in joy the first time I saw the commercial for Snooze – the
technology that literally turned you off by cryo-freezing you. You are thawed
back to life at a predetermined future time.
So
for five years, I worked ten hours a day, all days of the year to save money
for a Snooze. This is my day.
As
the taxi slowed down in front of the Snooze House, a belligerent man came
running from nowhere and pushed me back into the car, shouted, ‘Don’t do this
man. They put you to sleep but can't wake you up. Don’t do this man.’
Before
I realised what had happened, the guards at the building had whisked the man
off while a petite receptionist ushered me in.
As
I walked up to the door I wondered what bad wiring could do to one.
I
walked through the doors of this magnificent building that housed the snooze
chamber. It is believed that the snooze chamber was on the one hundred and
thirty seventh floor. The rumour is that the storage vault below ground is up
to thirty seven floors underground.
I
sometimes wonder how our rational minds process and accept such unfounded
information.
As
I lay naked in the white box, I could not but notice that the floor, the walls,
the tables and the machinery were all white. The men and women who worked on me
were all dressed in white. A mist of white
smoke filled the air.
The
man with the monstrous moustache winked at me as he closed the lid.
Click.
