AED-#210-31570 was working, he wasn’t sure what exactly it was he was supposed to be making, but he knew his purpose, just drill in, wait for the click, and drill out… Yet why did every time he hear that click was he reminded of the sound of breaking bones? Why was his arm shaking when he was only 2 hours into his shift? That face haunted him, but it neither appeared angry with him, nor sad, and that’s what scared AED-#210-31570 the most. With these thoughts in mind, he continued his work.

He slowly staggered out of the factory, he had about 10 minutes before the morning and night shifts switched, his mind was exhausted from the prospect of uniquely more work to be complete. He was still not done, so he waited outside the massive doors, their width, and height spanning the breadth of the road. They were incredible, he realized, his fatigued mind trying to pay any complements possible towards them, they represented the gate to success and happiness, built by all before him. He LOVED these doors, he was ELATED to pass through them every day, and so he did.

He had never worked the night shift before, but it was comforting in a way, to know the process was the same. He was assigned to the first empty slot, and finally, for the first time in his life, had something new to do. The novelty of his new position wore off as the night dragged on. His task was simple, he extended his arms to get one of the various ‘devices’ and then put them on another conveyor belt.

As he stared down at them, he felt a sense of futility, ‘why were they grey?’. He was certain more colours existed, so why did he have to see the same one over and over and over and over and over. His eyes glazed over as he took the device

and put it somewhere else. ‘The device’, as he began to refer to it, was a strange thing, a sort of elongated cube with various knobs and creases along its length. For the life of him, which wasn’t worth much, he couldn’t figure out what it was for. So, he decided to employ another first of his life and asked the person besides him.

‘Greetings citizens, do you know what we’re assembling?’

All AED-#210-31570 got back were cold stares, suitably chastised AED-#210-31570 returned to work, an interminable amount of time passing before, eventually, finally, someone responded.

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‘Computer parts.’

The person who had responded was a portly fellow, round and tall, his outfit of course being GREY, dressed like a typical worker citizen. Slacks, buttoned up shirt, gloves, shoes, and a ventilation mask. He had piercing brown eyes that the

mask only served to exemplify, and an auburn shade of hair, regulation short, of course. AED-#210-31570 nodded at the man, glad that someone had at last given him context for AED-#210-31570 tasks. It was becoming harder and harder to stay awake, AED-#210-31570 noticed. Eyes becoming drowsy and at the verge of closing, to distract himself, AED-#210-31570 asked.

‘Fellow citizen, may I inquire as to your designation?’

The man promptly responded, in a terse tone.

‘AED-#211-25687’.

Silence returned to the assembly line, each worker distracting themselves with the little brainpower required of their task, AED-#210-31570 felt even sleepier, beginning to drowse off. The hours passed, AED-#210-31570 was counting them down, trying desperately to remain awake, but deep down, he knew it was futile, for after this shift, there was one more, before he could finally reach his long desired sleep.

_ _ _ _ _

The bell rang, for the last time he had to hear it, and he stumbled out, bumping into citizens and tripping over his own feet. AED-#210-31570 drew irate stares where he passed as he tried to make his way to the station, as he lurched along the path following the crowd onto the nearest train. He waited and waited until enough time had passed that he felt it was his station.

Nearly falling out the door, he walked all the way up staircases and through corridors, making his way through the endless maze by pure habit, until he took a right and… He was not supposed to be here, where there should have been a staircase leading upwards, there simply was a wall. On this wall lay a massive mural, it was beautiful, and most importantly, it wasn’t grey, he had never seen something like this. The sheer variety of scintillating verdant colours was impeccable. Each one layering with the next to form a complete image with

verdant reds and shimmering blues and bright yellows and greens, purples and pinks and turquoises, colours he didn’t even know the name for combining.

Creating one image, each stroke leading to the next, seeing something new each time you looked at it. It was marvelous, incomprehensibly perfect. The image formed a simple, clear thought in his mind, breaking past the drowsiness and igniting passion long thought lost. He stared at it. For hours and hours, soaking in every expression, every colour, every message conveyed by the painter. He wondered who it was, who had made such a wonder. Surely the creator must be as beautiful?