Today marked the beginning of the end; my 'sunflower' years. The only time I would ever work:three years of designing my artificial double.My work would train a copy.That copy replace me for the foreseeable future, and I would be promoted to life-long unemployment. Yes, many jobs by the increased use of artificial intelligence, but the greatest expense,aside government spending on the basic income for those eternally unemployed, was that of creative works. We have lived long past the golden age of creation, where any creative could learn, better themselves and be embraced by the masses. Gone were the days of the Greats who weaved their lives and limericks to electrify crowds. Now, every poser can fill their time with vapid nonsense from their command- from podcasts,music to even feature films. What a time...
Like a nightmare, I found myself in a train car. Many seats were empty; those who were not working were in a non-stop fight with poverty. Even though they were given a monthly sum. My father fought that fight for the whole duration trying to help us too, it was pitiful. Sunflowers all depend on the Sun, they cannot share that light. They must only accept that they can eat, the Sun has helped them.
That is why I wore my suit of actual wool with pride.It was not going to last a long time, but I would still enjoy it. And I moved far away from my family, those weeds would only hurt me.
A drooping man stuck out. Very noticeably, he was trying to pull himself together. His heavy breaths and sniffling disgusted me. He should be happy. Maybe, there were last minute nerves? His hair was like that of a tribesman, and his shirt looked like an origami sculpture.
What a sad - Our eyes met. Eish.
He walked over, leaving his puddle of tears. It was like a switch was flipped
"How is it going, good neighbour?" I have never seen this man in my life.
"It is alright. How are you?"
He went on a tirade, about his hatred for the system. I could care less. He introduced himself; Thomas Morgan. I gave my name too.
"That is well and good, but Judas who? Who are your parents?"
I ignored the remark...
The train stopped. Finally, time to receive that beautiful sunlight.
YOU ARE READING
Bite The Bullet!
Science FictionCount your days, you young sunflowers! Soon, you will enter the work force, and after three nice years, you will never touch a keyboard again. Your company will still benefit from your work, but you won't be the one doing it. Your artificial copy wi...
