My name is Abe and this is my story, of escape.

The days were shrinking and it was a chilly morning, icicles lined the ground and Abe’s breathe curled up in front of him as he exhaled.  The bare soles of his feet were almost freezing to the concrete as he walked towards the area of the dome designated for supplying us for with daily food packages.  The air seemed alive with angry yells that sent chills up his spine, the older members of the dome shoved the youngsters aside as they pushed there way through the crowds hurrying to receive there daily food packages.  Abe never understood what what all the fuss and the rush was about, each individual was given a specific food parcel designated for them specifically and the food certainly hadn’t improved or even changed in the ten years he had been in the concrete prison.

Abe spotted a free food dispenser and slipped his slim gangly physique through the crowd to claim it before someone else did.  There were 15 food dispensers that were a few meters apart, so naturally because of the inmate numbers being roughly eight hundred, there was generally a morning rush to get your food packages first.  Each dispenser had a transparent screen with the outline of a hand on it ,next to the screen lay a tatty conveyor belt that moved the food packages from whatever was found beyond the darkness of the hole in the wall, and into the concrete prison that they called home.  He stretched out his bony arms and squished his grubby hand against the screen, as he shuffled his feet in anticipation worrying that his feet might stick to the ground if he stayed still for too long.  Blue light flashed from in between his grungy fingers, “identity confirmed” crackled a robotic voice from the screen.  A metallic clunk sounded as the belt rolled into gear.  A few seconds later the whirling sounds stopped and brown paper bag and a small plastic water bottle appeared out of the machine.  His stomach growled in protest about the lack of food, Abe painfully rubbed his protruding ribs as he scooped up the paper bag and bottle and scuttled off. The food was a bare minimal, enough to keep you alive and working but not enough to relinquish you of your hunger pains, the food was always the same , a bland sandwich with some kind of bizarre meat and a small dry biscuit  that was washed down with the 500 mils of water that the bottle carried.

Abe glanced up at the sun as it shone through the metal scaffolding that lined the top of the dome.  Small metal objects with little round lenses could be found at consistent intervals across the kilometer that the dome span.  These little devises seemed to be pairing down on us like eyes, capturing our every move  ensuring we stayed in line.  Ironically and maybe because of our lack of education and creativity we called them the eyes.  There was no one inside the dome to enforce order or discipline however fear keeped us in line, the constant fear of being watched , keeped almost all of us in line.  For those who acted out or caused unnecessary disrupt to the workplace found that there food packages were nonexistent the following day.

Walking to his work station was almost always the most peaceful part of his day. When Abe was five he was selected to working in the sorting factory.  Here they sorted the rubbish into there elements.  All of the different reigns of work were jobs that were seen as too dirty by the outside world.  The factory was the largest building in the dome and it was the reason that the dome didn’t have a roof.  Inside was a giant incinerator which was found next to the colossal conveyor belt which bought the rubbish into the dome,the waste was carried to the incinerator, and the sorted rubbish was put onto one of the three smaller conveyor belts that carried the sorted plastics, aluminium and electrical waste products out of the dome. The concrete grey interior was always clouded with fumes from the burning waste, the fumes were toxic and the vents struggled to pump all of the toxins out of the factory.  Abe was happy working at the sorting factory the incinerator keeped the factory warm in times like these when the mornings were icy, and the roof keeped the place shaded in the burning months summer.

The walk from where he picked up his food parcel to his work station took little over ten minutes.  The sorting factory was found on the opposite side of the dome.  Abe didn’t mind the walk he enjoyed being able to stretch about his gangly limbs, capturing the light if the sun dared to peak through the dark clouds.

Join the conversation! 2 Comments

  1. As we discussed, your piece should start at:

    “My name is Abe and this is my story of escape.”

    Your ideas for your dystopia are excellent – but the task now is to deliver a description sustaining the strength of what you’ve already written that also subtly builds a sense of unease, through the use of the language effects we’ve explored (neologisms, unusual grammatical structures and the like).

    You’re up to this task, but with 4 periods left the important thing will be to clear your mind, focus, and GO.

  2. Achievement Achievement with Merit Achievement with Excellence
    Produce a selection of fluent and coherent writing which develops, sustains, and structures ideas. Produce a selection of fluent and coherent writing which develops, sustains, and structures ideas and is convincing. Produce a selection of fluent and coherent writing which develops, sustains, and structures ideas and commands attention.



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