In 2160 Kanatah, the grid you're born into determines everything, from your clothes to your haircut, education, and job. Avah's only way out is by becoming a doctor, but with her poor schooling, that's almost impossible.
Her life takes a turn for th...
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"The labourers work till their hands bleed.
Young, old, you'll see them in the field
digging, hacking, chopping, plucking,
while the wealthy wait indoors
where it's cool and a servant
can serve lemons freshly juiced."
***
When I wasn't slicing bodies open, I worked at the receptionist's desk in front of Bella's office, answering phone calls and taking appointment requests. During the last few months, Bella's appearance changed; every day, she looked a little more like Olivia. Her breasts and thighs grew, so she was less pencil shaped. Her face lost some of its harsh angles, softening to become like Olivia's. Her skin darkened week by week. She had even changed the colour of her eyes to blue. The whole thing was so unnatural it sent a shiver down my spine.
Olivia and I hadn't spoken in a few weeks.
Her family had arranged for her to marry a rich, powerful man I could never compare to, and she had kept it secret from me. Played with my feelings.
While thinking, I chewed my pen's eraser till it crumbled into bits along my tongue. Hoping I didn't accidentally poison myself, I spat the remains onto a napkin and threw them into a bin. I waited a few minutes, glancing at the yellow walls that served as my cage while Bella was away. When I didn't die, I exhaled in relief.
I didn't think Bella was changing into Olivia for my sake, as she called me to her bedroom less and less these days. If not for me, then who? Did she acquire another puppy or slave that preferred her to look like Olivia?
There was a knock on the door, and since I worked with assassins who were either absent or taking a nap in their office, I alone was left to answer it.
Rising from my chair, I went to the front door.
My hand twisted the knob and pulled it open. Standing on the other side was a handsome young man with short blonde hair. He was a few inches taller than me with a chiselled face that faintly resembled the prime minister during his youth. Black coveralls hid his undergarments. He offered me his hand. "Are you Avah?"
I didn't like greeting strangers, so I crossed my arms over my chest. "Do you want something?"
"My name's Alex. And I thought you might want to go out sometime. I heard you were looking for a man to marry in order to regain your good standing in society."
"Oh." Since I was often featured as the face of lesbianism on the news, this didn't surprise me.
Alex said, "If it's alright with you, we could get married, and you wouldn't have to worry about being removed from society."
