Rain clapped against the cheap roof of Pod A142ZX. A frenzy of noise danced around the small, cramped room. Keyboard keys were slammed at lightning pace, a television set to an annoyingly loud volume for the time of day. It was standard, everyday living for the average pod worker. Why they couldn't revive the old traditions of having a place separate for work was unknown to the collective.

A small, square monitor helped illuminate the pod. There was only one application open; Code. Code had no options to minimize or exit. You couldn't control what you were working on, you were just assigned a task.

"No, no, no!" A shrill cry overpowered the other sounds of the pod momentarily. The disgruntled worker was furiously removing bits and pieces of his work, adding new lines as he went along. He clicked an inconspicuous button and waited patiently. Breathing a sigh of relief, work continued as if nothing had ever happened.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Time passed and a loud, earth-shaking buzzer permeated every inch of the hive. A small tray was dispatched from the roof containing blocky chunks of substance. The worker, of course, greedily ate the chunks as he tuned into the twelve-o-clock news.

A plastic-looking lady appeared on screen, "The federal government has issued new standards for codescribblers. They are expected to increase output by half for the weekend. More glob and allotted sleeping time will be issued afterwards. Thank you for doing your part."

A half-hearted cheer was given followed by resumed work.