After the fifteen minute walk back from my work I arrived back at my living sector. The outside of the building was covered with graffiti spurring its readers to “Suppress the power!” and “Live YOUR life, not theirs!” and other radical messages. I imagine the writer of this would now be on vacation. A small woman in overalls was spraying the wall with a green bubbly liquid and the messages were dribbling away, leaving only the lime green paint on the wall. The living sector building was insurmountably tall, to the point that seeing the top from the ground is impossible. The higher up one gets, the more expensive the rooms become, with the top floors being reserved only for politicians or celebrities.
I lived on the eighteenth floor, being a government worker had its perks after all, after greeting every person I met in the lobby I made my way to the elevator. All the while the speakers blasted the latest musical number “If I had eyes for you, they’d be yours in a giffy” with a beat that made it hard to not skip just a little along the way, and with the bright yellow and blue walls of the interior, one felt like they were walking on the set of an early history children’s show. In the elevator, a screen dominated one of the walls, displaying various stats about the economy, in fast moving lists of numbers. Generally most screens displayed this kind of information between sundown and eight o’clock, or the latest news from the celebs.
While I was excited to know about the economic results (the guys in the wealth department telling me how they have gotten record numbers, putting them all in a fervour) I wasn’t too interested in the celeb scene.
Making it to my apartment, I was reminded of how fortunate I was to be working for the ministry of knowledge. The spacious two room apartment of those of us lucky to work in a ministerial role was a whopping fifty square meters! There is even a separated section for the restroom. In my old place, I had to share this much space with three other adults, and there was a communal restroom, so this is a huge step up. The kitchen was chaotic, but mostly clean. Pots were stacked on top of each other at assorted angles that would make Issac Newton turn in his grave.
In yesteryear only the truly rich could afford a kitchen sink, now it was standard that each household had a sink, and even better all ministerial workers have one per household.
The muffled music from the next doors sound system waffled into my attention
“…and if you get tongue-tied … I’ll be there to guide your joy back to my side..
…and if your smile won’t work… then I’ll help with the pliers…”
Most music played over the network were all computer-generated. There are still musically talented people who can compete with AI crafted music, but such a talent is few and far between. Generally artists will work in the prop’ department, and rarely do they strike out on their own.