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I went to work today.

Woke up. Took the train. Go to work. Worked. Waited until 4. Left the office.

A day like yesterday, a day like tomorrow. A vicious cycle, where we sleep in our beds just to work another day and work another day just to sleep in our beds. Another static day in our static lives. It doesn't take much thought to lead this life. Just a whole lot of sanity.

I took the train home. There I was, standing, at the gate, unicard in hand, waiting to board the levi-train. A thousand commuters behind me. All waiting to go home after a long day of work, all wanting to see their families, hoping to kick back and relax. The pattern was simple. Something even the general populace could understand. Swipe, push, click. Swipe, push, click. Swipe...

But then there was this person in front of us. He obviously didn't come to this sector very often. He was too well dressed. Suit, tie, watch. Shoes, hair, cufflinks. It all fit in to place. The glimpse of a red insignia on his unicard sealed any doubt. He was taking his time, asking the gate operator for instructions to whatever shindig or get together he and his little croonies were planning. This man, one responsible for controlling our lives and taking away our freedom of choice was now standing in front of us, delaying our trips home.

A fireball of impatience erupts.

"You're holding up the frickin' line, you bastard."

A silence.

I swipe my unicard and push past him, oblivious to the daggers of a thousand glares in my back.

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