Hey Apple, I Love You

Apple

Apple was a clumsy fellow, living in the town of 4545C. He was the cannon fodder, not able to breed. He was supposed to be killed by the CEDO, or as everyone euphemistically considers it, Seed-O for its habits of testing premature fetus and young children. The CEDO is the Center of Epidemic and Disease Organization. Their main job is to test disease and assess epidemics. They are a law-making structure in the government.

In 4545 communities, they are given ten credits an hour for fodder level jobs, twelve for office, fifteen for security, and twenty for management of business. Any money coming in and out of these ghettos are counted to the credit and dealt with by the government. Apple has heard of money in paper, and metal chips. He laughed at the thought, how silly! Yet still he found it strange that there are nations beyond his that use this "paper money" and "chip money".

One of these days, he wishes to take a leave to another lovely province in the world, to see what no man has seen, to be on top of his hill. To climax his lifes meaning and love what else he knows he wants so terribly. Should he think any further, his meaning should certainly be lost in the inescapeable utopia that he lives in... as he drowns his sorrows. What if he had to make a decision? What if a crucial outcome fell under his responsibility? He had never been trained for that! No, this couldn't go any way except badly. 

He glares up from his tattered oil, grease and  dust stained gloves, hearing several thuds, lightly on the steel above his bench about twenty feet up. Odd, he thinks to himself. A soft wind blew outside and perhaps rain started, and if it did it stopped shortly after. Apple hoped that he would one day see weather. Now Apple was urgently obligated to finish the support on this helicopter order for the government. Apple had been taught how to fix the service helicopters. He gets a twenty five dollar bonus for each helicopter, in which he only does two or three a day. He is paid only nine credits an hour due to the bonuses. 

Often times, the monitor will walk by and say nasty remarks, "Apple just stood there doing nothing at all. He seems to think I have nothing better to do with my time than to sit around and describe every fascinating little detail of his inability to do anything." He said in a monotone voice, as I have been fiddling with different glass designs and looking through them. i hope the monitor does not tell the supervisor of hall #3 that i haven't my eye protection on in the mechanics quarters. What a fool he believes he is. but nothing could be so far on the contrary...

Suddenly, he heard stomps heading his way, then the light leaves instantly... Blackness... and a rising chill of uncertainty... was it over? Is this the end of a life less worth living?