View Full Version : (No Title, 1530 words)

July 4th, 2014, 07:18 AM
(This is just a bit of a beginning to a story that I just started writing when I was bored. It does sort of just cut off (sorry about that) because I wrote until I got to tired, but I just wanted to see what some people might think.)

There was a time, they say, when people would leave their front doors open to cool the corridors of their homes on a summer night. That is no more. Perhaps once there was honest art and a thirst for knowledge in people. That is no more. It is mentioned, in schools, that in times as resent as the 2000’s such things as religion and un-divided families existed. That is no more. Of the 8.5 billion people that lived on the earth 2200, 7.8 billion were a member of a divorced or never wedded family. 5% still claim any professed religion. The likeliness of a person committing suicide before the age of 25, 53%. The likeliness of a person being murdered or raped before that age, 89%. These statistics would be read in the lower corner of a small company news app by a young man, an outcast who avoided the statistics to the age of 20. He hoped that he could keep it up to the age of 25, he was one of the few that didn’t believe he could. In his fourth year of college, graduating at 16, this man, one of the approximate 698,000 Carson Andrews, was considered moderately gifted. And he was one of the 15% of the world that still cared about learning anything. He had managed to graduate sixth in his class by learning rather than hacking the test site or memorizing the questions and answers available on the school’s assignment page.

Carson lived alone, he was infinitely grateful for that, in a small one room apartment he managed to secure with the money he received by selling the “gift car” his parents gave him. Fortunately for him, and unfortunately for 5.9 billion other people, he was one of the rich ones, the Golden People they were called. The others didn’t have names, though, because the others weren’t real. Not to the Golden People. There’s no reason to give a name to something that doesn’t exist, right? But Carson learned, by his aspiring career to be a journalist, more commonly called a blogger, that those people that didn’t exist call themselves Scrubs. He made the mistake of asking why once, returning to his home with two cracked ribs and a dislocated shoulder, but he guessed that even they didn’t know why. It just was, and because it was there would be no reason to question it. The only Golden People who called the others Scrubs were the businessmen that hired them to work in the factories. Carson currently was working on a story telling about the success of the newest and best automobile company, Road Surfers. Even the Scrubs had the newest tech. of the time. The technological business was the base of the economy, the ones that could afford it bought the new technology and keep on living, and the ones that couldn’t bought it and lost their house. It was the stupidity of society and the reason Carson secretly hated technology.

An alarm sent his phone buzzing on the desk. He stopped talking into his tablet and swatted at the paper thin screen ceasing it’s two-o’clock spasm. He quickly hit the corner labeled fold on both machines and quickly tucked them away in his back pocket. He ran out the door to the elevator of his building. It took him to the lobby where he jogged down the street to the monorail station. Since the energy epidemic in 2130 anything running on gasoline has been almost non-existent. What they learned in history class was that anything running on fossil fuels was no longer of any value since they mined the earth dry of it. Now, the leaders of the world pride themselves with the cleaner less polluted earth achieved by the use of public transporting monorails and electric cars. Of course, they do have access to more fossil fuels now that a solid business for mining meteors was achieved, but that would be like going back to the steam age. The trip to the monorail was short and loud. Horns constantly honked and voices screamed from the car windows. The constant humming of machinery engulfed the city, and a required tow trees per block held up their limbs weakly begging for water. They were currently in the middle of a month long drought. Even in the middle of the city, where there was no open land, dust swirled in little whirlwinds. Carson coughed on the grimy air, and quickly ducked into the sheltered station. The place was very white. Strong lights flooded the station with an artificial luster. Small square windows were scattered, unevenly on the walls, each one reveling a framed portrait of the grey world outside. A current of people were pouring into the monorail, which had already arrived before Carson had. He pushed his way through the bustling people but was still unable to reach one of the grey-blue cushioned seats. He found himself in the middle of the vehicle pressed against the rear end of an appallingly large, hairy man and the back of a plump mother dressed in a business suit with one child on her shoulder and the other kicking his shins. The doors squeaked shut and a loud whistle blow as the monorail began to creep forward. With each inch it seemed to hum just a bit louder until Carson became accustomed to the sound and it seemed to fade into the background of the shouting people.

A fit of cursing broke out as people began to shuffle around. Carson was searching for the source when a strong hand grasped his shoulder. He whipped around, his heart racing. A smiling face reached up and kissed him on the lips. He pulled back, genuinely surprised. The muscular girl that starred at him cheerfully aloud him to relax ever so slightly. She reached up on her tip-toes to whisper in his ear.

“Shh... I pissed off some guy over there. I’m so glad I saw you or I might have gotten socked in the gut.”

“Was the kiss really necessary?” He asked, shouting over the rest of the voices.

“Well you know me, Carly, I’m a player.” She punched him playfully in the shoulder. “ Besides, I’ll take any excuse I can get.” He scoffed, then cringed from another kick in the shins. “You got a shadow?” She asked.

“More of a demon.” He said. “The kid won’t leave me alone.” The toddler kicked him again, harder.

She pushed him aside, unfortunately further into the fat man. “Don’t worry I’ve got this.” She said smugly. “Hey kid.” She said tapping him on the head. “Go kick that guy.” She was pointing at the man she had just run away from. The toddler nodded, though, and ran off easily weaving through the crowd of people. She turned back to Carson, who had managed to shift slightly away from his uncomfortable neighbor. “There, all better.” She said, beaming.

“What if he gets lost?” Carson asked, half laughing.

Macy shrugged. “Dunno...” She said. “The kid’ll be fine.” Then throwing her arm over Carson’s shoulder she said, “But your not looking at the big picture, Carly. The kid stopped kicking you.”

“Actually.” He said, bending under the weight she was putting on him. “That would be the small picture. The big picture would be that the kid could get lost and cause his mom to panic.” The monorail began to slow again. She put more weight on his shoulder bringing his head closer to hers.

“Who cares anyway? She asked. “I mean, do you want to tell his mom where he went?” She was taunting him. She knew he had... “people issues” (mostly the fear of saying something that would cause someone to beat him up) and didn’t really believe he would speak up. He finally slipped out from her grasp.

“Maybe I will.” He said striating himself.

“Oh yeah?” She asked. “Do it then.”

He looked at the mother, then the toddler, and finally back at Macy’s smug grinning face. “I said I might.” He said leaning closer to her so that he could be heard over the growing noise. The monorail was coming to it’s first stop, which was in center of the college campus. There was a slight lung jerking everyone forward. As they regrouped the doors squealed open.

“Well you better hurry up.” Macy said drifting out with the current. Carson looked back at the mother, who was searching for her child. “We’re gonna be late.” He sighed and followed Macy, leaving the frantic woman behind. Walking to class Carson was quiet.

“She’s probably found him by now.” Macy said softly. The fact that he was so upset about it bothered her, she worried about him. Carson just shrugged. “Come on Carly.” She said playfully. “The kid’s fine. Besides, you should be worrying about my match tonight.” She paused. “You will be there won’t you?” Macy was a member of the wrestling team. Based on what she said, because Carson never really got into those things, she was one of the best.

“Well, I don’t know... I sorta wanted to get some work done tonight.”

July 4th, 2014, 08:11 AM
that lived on the earth 2200

that lived on the earth IN 2200

they do have access to more fossil fuels now that a solid business for mining meteors was achieved,

fossil fuels are created by the decomposition of living material, it can't be mined from meteors unless there was alien life on them and even then it takes millions of years and high pressure to create fossil fuels so its not really likely. If this is something you plan to justify later using some plot, thats fine but if this is just a random fact then people familiar with fossil fuels will really questions the whole work.

starred at him cheerfully aloud him

stared(not starred) at him, cheerfully allowed(not aloud) him

Those were a few I caught, but it would be a good idea to run the piece over with a fine tooth comb and pick it all out. I imagine you wrote this all in one go without a lot of editing so its just something you will have to go back and do.

The opening paragraphs that lead into the story are long and rather bulky, its got a lot of the "telling" not "showing" phenomenon that people talk so much about. You describe this world rather than showing us what is going on.

I like the way you make up a ton of statistics and read them like a report, its a fun way to add realism to your world, but be careful and make sure the stats are somewhat believable and most importantly make sense, there were a few times when reading over the stats got a little cumbersome to really follow.

Those opening paragraphs need some serious breaking down. There are probably 6 paragraphs worth of information in there, every time you hit a new thought start a new paragraph. much easier on the reader.

Overall I like the idea. Amoral society where basic empathy is lost. I think you can go places with the idea, just refine the delivery. I would try reading Asimov's the foundation, Its a classic and there is some similarity in style to your presentation here. Definitely would be a good reference. Hope that helps good luck with your writing.