The following is a snippet of a ‘slightly’ Sci-fi piece I’m writing, or a series of works. Not sure what I’ll call it. Chris Nolan says genres can be pejorative. I like that concept. It’s just this ‘thing’ I’m working on. Hope you like it.
It was three minutes before noon. The air was misty and chilly, as citizens walked the streets in their coats with their chins tucked, brushing shoulders and walking quickly. The ostensible sights of skyscrapers loomed above the clouds. Machines perform the laborious task of erecting banks and factories and the sweat falls from the brows of workers hundreds of feet in the air. But those that pace the streets will never see that sweat fall and know of the work. They all have their own.
The alarm buzzed and William’s back and torso moved up from the chair he fell asleep in. His eyes felt pulled and the bags shone in the mirror as the electric toothbrush throttled the bristles over his gums. He let the spit hang until it finally fell into the sink.
The train car rocked back and forth from West 18th street. The gritty steps pulled off his heel as his tired feet missed a step coming out of the subway. The ground shook and a man brushed his shoulder and knocked his briefcase out of his hand.
“Come on, we can see what’s happening if we hurry,” Jud said.
William picked up his briefcase, staring at it and brushing it off, reminded of his wife that gave it to him years ago. He ran after Jud up the block.
“Why are we following the police carrier, Jud?” William asked, panting.
“The APC just hauled that guy off on 34th street. They’re going to let us watch anyway. You know they will,” Jud said.
“I never watch that stuff,” William said.
William continued to follow his co-worker and the APC screamed a little louder and the tail lights grew farther away in distance. Jud stopped and William stopped too.
“Thank goodness,” William said.
Boots chattered and passed a few rocks over to William and Jud as they had hands on knees. The assault rifle in the officer’s hands was gripped tightly and his face intent with fixed pupils on the two tired men.
“Let me see your hands,” the officer said in his baritone voice.
Jud and William pulled back their coat sleeves and the officer removed the remote from his side to scan their watches. He looked up at them while the device forged their holographic pictures.
“A William Gardner, and a Jud Hauer,” he said clearly.
He quickly snapped the remote back onto his hip and whipped out a nightstick.
“You boys are scheduled to be in at 8:05am. Engineers can’t be late, so get to it,” he said.