Deceased Individual Identified as Three-Year-Old
Snarky and Casual
John, a 47-year-old bookworm, sat on a crowded bus, surrounded by the mindless hordes of phone-obsessed commuters. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight, thankful to have lived through his youth before smartphones took over. The blind stare of people absorbed in their screens, like puppets on a string, made him feel like the last sane man in a world gone mad.
But he wasn't immune to the intrusion of technology either. His book, hidden away in his rucksack, was just a stone's throw away from his old, trusty Samsung. Yet he chose the book instead, flipping open the dog-eared cover with a satisfied smile. The pencil-marked pages, underlined with phrases and metaphors that struck him, were a testament to his love for the written word. Laughter rang out as he glanced at the title, "Dark Spring" by R. S. Maitland. The woodcut design on the cover, showing a strange man venturing towards a house, gave him a sense of unease, much like the novel's opening chapters.
As a teen, they'd called him 'Professor' at school. When he questioned the obtuseness in calling a triangle an obtuse one, it earned him the label. His girlfriend, Kate, would tease him about his penchant for marking books with pencil, likening it to vandalism. But he saw it as a sign that the book had truly been read.
He was about to lose himself in the story when a woman in a puffer jacket and enormous headphones sat beside him. The pulsating music filled the air, making his teeth grind. He hesitated for a moment before deciding to ask her to lower the volume. As he expected, she only turned it up instead. Frustrated, he closed the book and looked out the window.
The city's dreary landscape passed by - a monotonous sea of shops, alleys, and dilapidated buildings. Around him, people continued their mindless wandering, ensnared by their devices. John couldn't help but wonder if they were actually alive, or if they'd become mere shadows of their former selves.
Finally, the bus arrived at his destination. He stepped out onto the bustling street, equal parts relieved and disheartened. The city held its own unique charm, but it was this very charm that had become its undoing. John could only hope that one day, humanity would find its way back from the brink of automation.
As he walked towards the school, he glanced down at the altered sign on the emergency exit door: MER CY EXIT. He chuckled at the whimsical touch and couldn't help but wonder what story lay behind it. With a final, thoughtful look at the city, John entered the school, ready to face another day.
(to be continued) Dead Man 4, Part 1
In an attempt to escape the cacophony of pulsating music, John might have browsed the latest news about music festivals and their effects on lifestyle, hoping to find a peaceful home-and-garden retreat to unwind in.
As he continued his walk towards the school, John's eyes may have wandered to a garden center display, admiring the vibrant array of flowers, dreaming of the moment when the city's landscape would one day bloom with such beauty instead of being overrun by technology.
