I stood at the train station, waiting for my train to arrive. I was wearing my usual conservative grey and blue work uniform, which determined my respectability in society. Riding the train instantly connects me with everyone else in my world. I bob next to other commuters, and they bob next to me. No one stares at me, and no one gossips.
The train arrived, and I boarded it by the door. I smiled and waved at everyone in the train car. I chose to sit in the very back, as provided for middle-aged workers. Whenever I do this, the hostess always gives me a silent sympathetic expression when I enter the train. She always seems sad to see me—that I have to work so hard. The other passengers are always busy with their electronic devices, ignoring the fleshy beings around them.
Before the train took off, the train attendant delivered my pre-ordered items: a cup of coffee, a metro news feed, and an engrossing holographic educational article about the recent discovery of an artificial intelligence. I realized that I forgot to wake up this morning, so I pulled out my food ration for the day. It was a small pill that I would swallow, and it would make breakfast inside of me.
The train ride was quite long, but I spent my time reading and learning. I read a human interest story about a celebrity's hair style, and I learned about the new drug for breast enhancement, which would hit the market next year. Technology almost always advances by the end of the year, but it didn't make me anxious. I was comfortable with the safety of my world.
I arrived at work, greeted everyone with a nod and a smile, and then went straight to my desk. I spent half of my day working on my computer, typing reports from the previous day, and typing up an action report. I had long, silky, white hair that fell all the way down to my waist. My hair was the polar opposite of everyone else's crazy, unruly, up-dos. I always told myself that I was financially embarrassed if I wanted to visit a hair stylist, but the truth is that I couldn't bear the thought of cutting my own hair. In my private world, I was a barber.
When I turned to go to the metro train, I noticed that one of my co-workers was staring at me from across the conference room. I waved at her, but she was too shocked to wave back. I looked back at her. She was a friend of mine. I paused to catch up with the conversation that she was in the middle of. I'm a fast typist, and I usually get the hang of a conversation quickly. Once the conversation finished, I went back to my computer.
I had already had my coffee preparation prepared, so I drank my coffee and typed reports until lunch. At lunch I ate a mouthful of my food ration, which was a super sweet, moist, sticky pomegranate flan thing that tasted like frozen coconut cream from a tropical dessert planet. It was one of my favorites. After lunch I used the metro news feed to learn about the newest drug for my hair. My hair would grow about four centimeters per day, and it would use the nourishment of my own body to grow. This drug would help me to achieve a new style, free from any chemicals or complexes.
I showed up at the metro station for the second half of the day. I still had to finish my reports, so I went to my desk and finished them up. I found myself staring out the window. A few other people had already left for the metro by then. I turned to see my work not yet done, and then turned back to see the train coming. I slowly packed up my laptop and computer gadgets and slowly turned to walk out of the office.
The train came and I boarded it. I waved my hand to make room for myself, and then I sat down by myself. I immediately focused back on my typing, and I watched the train head in the direction I needed to go.
My work place was in a very industrial part of town. This part of town was rich. Somehow it was different from the rest of the town. If a person were rich in the rest of town, they wore sharp black clothing and carried trendy crystal-like accessories. In this part of town, rich people wore sharp, colorful clothes and carried colorful crystal-like accessories. It was very obvious who the rich people were. The rich people in my town were those that always wore colorful clothes, those that carried colorful crystal-like accessories, and those who lived right in the rich part of town.
The train chugged along, and I happily typed away. I was using my well-trained and expert fingers to touch keyboards and taps at the same exact time. I was also using my well-trained and expert hands to hold my phone to my ear and hold the headphone to my ear at the same exact time. I was squeezing my well-trained and expert lips together to mumble a greeting when the train finally arrived at my destination. I pushed open the connecting door and stepped off the train. I had to rely on my well-trained and expert mind to avoid tripping over the rusticles that were covering the station floor.
I looked around. A few other people had stepped off the train, and some people were still on the train. I looked in the direction I saw my work, and I could see the sunlight reflecting off of the train driver. I decided to walk. I looked to my left and I saw the next train to my destination. I walked to the next train, the train in which I traveled to work every morning. I got on the train and sat down. I was surprised by the rusticles on the bench, which I had never noticed before. I kept my legs and feet pressed together, and I gave myself a quick glance in the mirror. I had long, silky, white hair that reached the middle of the back of my knees. I gave myself a quick self-check to see if I had any stubble or cuts. I didn't, so I sighed in relief.
I sat back against the weather-worn swing seat in the next train car, and I took in the aroma of my specially prepared food ration.
I pulled out my food ration and swallowed it. I felt the heat of the meal fill my body, and I wished that my hair grew faster.
I placed my backpack on the floor and set my laptop, pad, and remote control all down on the floor. I smiled in the mirror at my superficial perfection.