the unreachable fuzzy banana

Posted: November 8, 2014 in Uncategorized

The woman on the phone politely explained, reading off her conflict resolution script that the Regeneration Center would be happy to provide Charlie with one of their mylar jumpsuits, but most people found it much more comforting to step into a new life wearing something they’d picked out themselves. “Besides,” she lowered her voice as if she was somehow telling a secret while their conversation was being recorded for quality assurance purposes, “they’re not very comfortable to wear between you and me.”

Charlie shot an annoyed glance at the technician and then caught himself. So what if he’d been naked, if he had a splitting headache after 45 minutes in that dark hole of a box, if it had taken his whole afternoon off of work to come down, wait in line, and go through the process? Here was a way to immortality so to speak, and weren’t some minor bureaucratic inconveniences a small cost to pay for that kind of opportunity? He’d watched the news about the legislation in making the procedure mandatory and operated by the government, but no amount of protesting measured up against the public’s general fear of death.

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