June 13, 2033

Greater Seattle Area, Washington, USA

Outside temperature: 92°F

0601 Hours

A scream tore me from the nightmare. It was my scream. I stopped, and clarity slowly started to return. Until the headache caught up to me and clubbed me from behind. I squeezed my eyes shut and moaned through the pain. The mechanical shriek sounded from my bathroom.

"Fucking alarm. Ugh, did you shit in my mouth, Spike?"

I peeked through one squinted eye. The cat turned his dour gaze on me, then looked away. Haughtiness was in every carefully chosen movement. A chuff of laughter sounded from Buster. Then a far less pleasant sound. His fart was rank and pushed me over the edge. I threw the sweat-soaked blanket aside and bolted to the bathroom. Bile was rising as I fumbled with the toilet lid. I clamped my mouth shut, feeling sweat break out across my entire body.

The lid finally lifted, and the pressure overwhelmed me. Puke sprayed across the porcelain and into the water. My eyes began to water. I heaved again, then a third time. Colors of a horrifying nature swirled in the toilet. Blues and greens and purples. Orange peeked through for a moment. The sight set me off and I puked again. Then I leaned back and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I was now cold and clammy from the puke sweats.

The alarm was still going off. I grabbed it off the counter and viciously stabbed the first button I could. Nothing happened. I considered hurling the terrible object out of the nearest window. Then I just slapped the whole top of the device with my other hand. The howl was finally silenced, bringing much needed peace to my life.

I ran an internal audit. Obviously, I had too much to drink the night before. I felt like hell. My head was hosting a competition between a speed metal concert and a rave. The faintest bit of light bleeding through the curtains burned my eyes. My joints ached.

I blamed my friends. Going out on a Sunday night might not be a stupid idea, per se, but it hadn't worked out for me this time. And what the fuck had we been drinking? I prefer dark beers, not fruity multi-colored hangover-inducing sugar laden death traps.

I climbed to my feet, feeling the hangover shakes set in. My limbs were jelly. I brushed the curtain aside and turned the shower on and set it to hot. I wanted to sear the alcohol out of my pores.

Buster flopped his fat ass in the doorway, huffing slightly. He was an English Bulldog and basically just a big, round, cuddle bug. But he could clear a room with a maniacal gleam in his little eyes. Then Spike daintily walked right over Buster and to the edge of the shower. He stepped in and I followed the gray tabby in.

Spike was in his middle age, already 10 years old. He ruled the house and allowed his subjects to dote on him. Buster had been introduced just a few months before. He was a puppy, and a big one at that. He was nearly his adult size, or so I hoped. He already weighed a whopping 28 pounds, ten more than his high lordship Spike.

One of my coworkers, Linda, had suggested I adopt a puppy to have someone at home every day, happy to see me. I explained that I had a cat, and she reiterated the happy to see me part. I thought Spike showed love in his own way, but he was a cat.

So, Buster. And his foul farts. And Spike, with his very strange love for water. Then there's me. One big, awkward, strange family.

I stripped out of my boxers and jeans. Apparently when I got home, I had managed my shirt but left my pants on. At least I hadn't been wearing shoes this time. My stomach rumbled once or twice, but I started feeling better as soon as I stepped into the spray of the shower.

I grabbed the body wash and applied a healthy dollop to my loofah. Then I began to scrub. Spike carefully wound around and around my legs, though I made sure to give him a squirt of water if soap dropped on him. I kept my hair close cropped for ease of care, so I didn't even bother with shampoo that day. I stepped out of the shower and toweled off.

Once I was dry, I grabbed my electric razor. I shaved my stubble down, so I looked clean and presentable. I almost felt human again. I stepped from the bathroom and started to dress.

It was Monday, the most dreaded of all days. As such, I grabbed a clean undershirt, boxers, and socks from my dresser. Then I went to the closet and selected the first button up. It was white with pearlescent buttons. A classic. I stepped into the boxers and socks, then shrugged the shirts on. I pulled a pair of nice pressed trousers from their hangar and slipped them on.

I relished this part of the day. I stood and contemplated. Then I chose the most obnoxious tie I could. It was a horrendous tie-dye piece with polka dots in a color that did not compliment pretty much anything. It caused nausea in sober people if they looked too long.

I was careful to avert my eyes from the dastardly tie. I inspected my reflection, grabbed a watch from the valet, and struck out.

The two furry fiends followed me from my room in to the kitchen, tails wagging enthusiastically. Spike dripped water all over, but he didn't care one whit. Honestly, I didn't either. The cleaning robot would probably catch it shortly after I left.

I grabbed their food bowls and filled them with kibble according to species. The larger went down first so that Buster didn't try to eat Spike's food. Once he was noisily munching away, I put Spike's bowl down. He sniffed, looked at me.

"What? That's your food. Eat it or Buster will."

He sniffed at me, as if to say I was barely adequate. Then he too dipped his head into his bowl. I scratched at their scruff for a moment. Then I saw the time and realized I would be late if I didn't start driving soon. I grabbed my keys and a banana from the counter and stepped in to the garage.

One press of the large button on the wall started the door upward on the old chain, motor whining. I quickly did the traditional pocket pat- wallet, keys, various other every day carry stuff. I stepped over to my car. I pressed the unlock button, opened the door, and sat in the seat.

Then I shut the door and pressed the start button. The engine growled to life, and I told it to start for work. Gears shifted under me, barely audible in the environment. The car backed up, clearing the garage. I pressed the button above the center console to close the door. My car paused for a moment, then rolled smoothly into the street, bumping from sidewalk to roadway.

The journey was normal, all too familiar. My neighborhood fell away. Before long, I was on the highway. Cars jockeyed for position. It amazed me every day how many people still drove their own cars. Accidents could still happen, and then traffic always snarled up. I relaxed, taking in the sights.

Suburbs gave way to urban environments. Neighborhood fences covered in graffiti, then stores covered in just as much graffiti. The highway lifted off the ground as it traveled through a small city. Soon it descended again, and I was once more at ground level. Forty minutes of smooth driving passed. I spent most of it looking out the window, just watching the scenery without really noticing anything.

Another bridge, this one surrounded by gleaming water. Trash bobbed near the shore. At one point, I saw a plane cruise past high above. Clouds swirled and made their ethereal way across the sky. Finally, the car began to slow and moved over to the exit lane. It took the exit, slowing as it joined a long line of cars. I was that much closer to work.

Then an idiot in an ancient silver Honda blew past me on the exit ramp, careening out of control. They slammed side on into the retaining wall, plastic and metal screeching across concrete, trailing showers of dirt and sparks. They disappeared around the corner, and I let loose a groan.

A moment later, I heard a massive crash. It was followed by another, then something like an explosion.

"Fuck me. Of course," I grumbled. Then I navigated through a few options on the car's infotainment center and dialed up my boss, Jessie. It was a few minutes to 8, so she sent me to voicemail.

"Hey Red. I know you don't want to hear this, but some fucking idiot went and tried to kill himself on the highway. Actually did it right in front of me. Doing like 60 at the off-ramp, slammed into the wall, then hit something out of sight. I know I'm going to be late. I'll send pictures when I get closer."

I hung up, resigned to my fate. Traffic was always a bitch, even with self-driving cars. I hated being late too. This would make the third time in three months. Which means Jessie would have to have an 'official talk' with me. She's going to hate me for that.

Time slowed to a crawl.

A fly buzzed in through my window and promptly got stuck inside my car. I swatted at it, to no avail. I opened the sunroof out of exasperation. There I was, a grown adult, screaming and flailing at a fly. And failing to make it leave my fully open car. I gave up and looked up through the sunroof.

The morning was already sweltering, and the sunlight was blazing down the glass valleys of the buildings on all sides. The streets were lit as if the sun was directly overhead. Out of curiosity, I poked at the infotainment center in the dash to check on the weather. 98 degrees and rising. Projected to be nearly 110 degrees in the afternoon.

Unbelievably hot for Seattle, and this was the third month in a row. I just leaned back and stared into the sky. A few lazy clouds drifted by.

The car in front of me moved, and I switched to manual control and squeezed forward. This finally brought the accident into view. I came to a slow stop, nearly bumper to bumper with the car in front. The sight was amazing in its stupidity. The idiot that had lost control hit another car, this one black. I couldn't even determine what kind of car it was. The rear end was joined to the Honda, and the front end was slightly lifted up, with water spraying out from under.

The second car must have been slammed into and on top of a fire hydrant. That caused it to break and spew water all over the sidewalk. The second car was all the way across the oncoming lane, with the Honda blocking the lane I was in. Nobody would be moving for a while. I bet the idiot that had been speeding will end up paying for the water too- and at drought rates.

He would definitely get dropped by his insurance. If he even had any- he was driving an ancient car that couldn't even be auto-piloted. A cop was already on scene, sweating in the early morning heat.

Traffic was backed up in both directions, now causing the freeway to slow down to a crawl as people rubbernecked, trying to see what was causing the backup at the off-ramp. I groaned again. The fly finally flew out of the sunroof, and I quickly closed all the windows. Then I turned on the AC, because it was a bit too warm even for me.

A firetruck rounded the far corner into our lane, coming directly at the accident. The firetruck was right about at the expected time, around 7 minutes. I realized the cop must have been on scene already when the accident occurred. Imagine that, a cop when you actually need one.

The firetruck slammed to a stop and a bunch of guys in full gear jumped off. They ran at the cop first, and that's when I realized he was injured. He must have been in the first car. A closer look showed that the car had antennae on the crushed trunk and roof. That was not lucky for the speeder.

I thought ahead. First, they would have to get a tow truck to haul the Honda out of the way, then they would have to remove the busted police car. After that, they would have to find the mains shutoff for that block to fix the hydrant. This was going to take a while.

I set the car back to auto, but shut it off to save fuel. Then I cranked back and looked up through my skylight.

Weirdly, the sky looked darker than it had the last time I'd looked up. I opened the sunroof again, only for that same blasted fly to fly in again. I did my best to ignore it.

The tint of the sunroof wasn't what was making everything look dark, the sky itself was darker. Maybe some storm clouds were building nearby, just out of sight from my glass canyon. I was resigned to being late.

I closed the sunroof. The fly landed on my hand, and I swatted it away. It continued to make little loops through the cabin, the drone of its wings blending with the AC fans. It was sort of hypnotizing, and I found my mind wandering into the past.