Date: 4/5/67
I've had this job for 40 years.
In the first forty years of my career, I made designs and disguises so smooth as to make the real version of it look fake. I've had enough money left over to make a posh waiting room with confectionery and beverages. I still had enough money to guarantee each new "human" one starter outfit. The humans that don't want their human names anymore give them to A.I.'s that don't want their factory names and vice versa.
I hired a computer to help me store the information, because I am terrible with names and numbers. I'm more of a ... visual artist. Yeah, that's what I was looking for. I'm an artist of my trade. An artist of transformation, of disguise-ation? That looked better in my head.
Anyway, today a customer walks in and asks me to use all the skin colors on their design... I wish I have the equipment to do that, but sadly, I don't. With their eyes a deep emerald green, I question if the albino skin is what they want. I think it is a bold choice, but "nothing ventured, nothing gained" I can't mess with programming too much, eyes have to stay. I should invest in buying colored contacts... would bring in extra satisfaction and more capital.
YOU ARE READING
The True Apocalypse
General Fiction"In my world, zombies are real. Woah, woah. Before you start a mass-murdering, let me explain..." An original story, written by Inspiration Calls My name