It all began one sunny morning that was at a glance not unlike any other, the birds were singing, the bees were buzzing and John Doe was speeding. Really speeding, 150 km/h on a 70 km/h road speeding, and people were, surprisingly, not starting to take note. You see where John currently was there is no such thing. In fact he had been honked at several times already, some honks were angry, others rather crispant and happy, maybe even a bit bawdy. But none of these rater rash drivers and surprisingly flirty Volvo were currently concerning John. For you see he had, at least according to himself, considerably bigger problems at the moment, those being rather ironically not knowing where he was, why he was there or really anything at all anymore.
John was finding it quite difficult to accept not only the earlier parts of the morning but also, the ever so minor detail of that the sky had as one 60s rock band so graciously asked, been blotted out. Still bright and providing light and judging from the car's ever pleasant summer temperature it also provided warmth. But nevertheless it was in fact;
” painted black. Black as night, black as coal.” Is what John found himself saying. Likely because it was a very apt description of what he was currently trying to come to terms with.
Suddenly brought back to reality by the familiar sound of sirens, John decided that he had experienced enough trouble with the police for one morning and so he made a decisive maneuver, pulling over. As he did so he observed the loud car or more precisely the back of it, as the car head previously thought to belong to some kind of law enforcement had simply zoomed past him.
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“Well at least it’s comforting to know that I am not currently wanted.” John said with something between a grimace and a smile on his face. Calming himself, John started to rationalize.
“Come to think of it, the sky was always black was it not? And people have hated speed limits forever. It is Only natural that some politician picked up on that fact and decided to do something about it, right?”
Having once more gotten to terms with the world John, a proper punctual man, decided that he was not going to let a case of mild confusion destroy his ever precious record of punctuation. Thus John started his car, eased his seat back, revved up the engine, then took off and for the first time in his 28 year long life, he felt truly alive.
Arriving at the office he parked in his dedicated spot, John took a look around, much like yesterday he was looking at a charming brick building that had likely been some kind of manufactory in the past. Now a slightly hip office where mediocre programers like himself made their living, making simple software for “simple” people. Taking a deep breath John opened the door and walked to work.