His shift at work passed uneventfully. He’s been correct in assuming that no one noticed he was late. In fact it was midafternoon before he even saw anyone. Being a network analyst involved sitting in your own secure router room and monitoring all network activity on a bank of vid screens, so interaction with others was restricted to bumping into people at the toilet. Larry’s particular networks at ZCOMM carried television feed for the hundreds of vid channels that permeated their lives these days. Lifestyle shows, news, talk shows, documentaries, more news. It was a never ending flow. Although Larry monitored the flow, he could tap into any channels he liked at any time but he had stopped years ago because it all seemed so pointless.
His shift came to an end and he set his program running to log out fifteen minutes after he left. Quarter of an hour was quarter of an hour and every little helped at the end of the month.
Going down in the lift, he was joined by Bill Wheeler. Bill had been in the same graduate intake as Larry way back when he started. They had even had drinks a few times on a Friday until Amalie had been born and it all got too hard.
"Bill." said Larry.
"G’day." said Bill.
They stood facing the door as the lift descended again.
"Off home?" asked Bill.
"Yep."
The doors opened and both stepped out. Bill walked away. Larry stood and watched his back as it disappeared into the crowd out through the front doors. Seconds passed and another lift door opened, four people stepped out and Larry suddenly found himself in the way.
Later at home, he sat in front of the box watching the same stream that ran by him all day. Not watching, merely facing. His mind wandering around aimlessly, asking the same inevitable questions every night, "What am I doing? Is this it? Is this life?" No answers. He had a stable income, a wife who loved him, a daughter he adored, a place that he didn't owe too much money on.
Is this life?
Is this all there is?
You were born, you did this and then you die.
He kissed his wife goodnight and went up to bed. She'd join him later - it was what they did these days.
His shift came to an end and he set his program running to log out fifteen minutes after he left. Quarter of an hour was quarter of an hour and every little helped at the end of the month.
Going down in the lift, he was joined by Bill Wheeler. Bill had been in the same graduate intake as Larry way back when he started. They had even had drinks a few times on a Friday until Amalie had been born and it all got too hard.
"Bill." said Larry.
"G’day." said Bill.
They stood facing the door as the lift descended again.
"Off home?" asked Bill.
"Yep."
The doors opened and both stepped out. Bill walked away. Larry stood and watched his back as it disappeared into the crowd out through the front doors. Seconds passed and another lift door opened, four people stepped out and Larry suddenly found himself in the way.
Later at home, he sat in front of the box watching the same stream that ran by him all day. Not watching, merely facing. His mind wandering around aimlessly, asking the same inevitable questions every night, "What am I doing? Is this it? Is this life?" No answers. He had a stable income, a wife who loved him, a daughter he adored, a place that he didn't owe too much money on.
Is this life?
Is this all there is?
You were born, you did this and then you die.
He kissed his wife goodnight and went up to bed. She'd join him later - it was what they did these days.
