[SF]A short dystopian piece I wrote 15 years ago and recently polished up. Multi-perspective structure (clerk → mayor → city → clerk). Influenced by Kafka, late-stage capitalism absurdism, and the question of who gets to own what. Open to thoughts, feedback, or roasts.
I. [ANNA]
The first thing I do every morning is make coffee. The same yellow mug. The same drawer. The same window. The polish on my left pinky is chipped. I noticed yesterday. I pretended not to. I notice again today. I hate dealing with people when I'm not perfect. They stare. They always stare. I finish the coffee slowly. The yellow mug ends up in the corner of the desk, where it will stay until the residue inside dries into small dark cracks. Two thin strings. The blind comes down. A practiced motion above my booth — 001 flickers, beeps, and the morning begins. A young man walks in. Elegant suit. Bright smile. "Where can I find your boss, miss?" "Excuse me?" I force a smile. He's not bad-looking. "I need to speak with your boss. Immediately." All sympathy gone. I point to the door across the room. "Thank you." He turns. Three knocks. He goes in. I don't see him for two hours.
[THE MAYOR]
"Good morning, how can I help you?" The day's first irritated citizen. He looks reasonable enough. I'd rather be somewhere with a cigar this early. But maybe it'll be quick. "Greetings. My name is Servác Bonifác, and I have a business proposal you cannot refuse." A practiced tone. A salesman. Expensive suit. Expensive watch. The office has been running at a loss. Good offers are rare. "Please. Have a seat." He sits eagerly. "How much does your city spend on electricity at night?" "A lot." "Could you imagine paying double?" "No." "Imagine." Idiot. "Get to the point. I have work to do." He pulls out a box of cigars. The scent hits me before I see them. "Do you smoke?"
We are on the balcony. The cigar is perfect. Worth even some pointless sales talk. "Lighting the city during the day would be financially devastating," he says. "The budget couldn't handle it." Typical phrases. Probably a fresh graduate. "Fortunately, we'll never have to deal with that." I exhale a ring of smoke. The street moves below. "Imagine one day you will." "I don't see the problem." "Sometimes the unimaginable happens." That sly smile again. The cigar burns down. I'm losing patience. "Say what you want and leave." "Did you know you can buy land on the Moon? Quite cheaply. Online." He's insane. "Please leave. I don't have time for nonsense." "Wait." "I don't want land on the Moon. What else do you have? A piece of the Berlin Wall?" "I can reduce your lighting costs by 50%. Right here. Right now." Now he has my attention. "That might be worth discussing."
"What are your current nightly costs?" "Roughly a hundred thousand. How would you reduce them?" "I'll eliminate costs you don't have yet — but soon will." "What do you know that I don't?" "You can buy land not only on the Moon, but on other celestial bodies." He hands me a document. "I am the majority owner of the Sun's surface." I laugh. "And what am I supposed to do with that?" "I want 50% of your daily electricity costs. Paid in cash." "Are you serious? Leave, or I'll call security." He steps closer. He points at the bright disc in the sky. "Watch." He snaps his fingers.
[ANNA]
I am touching up the chipped polish on my ring finger. There's still a bit of red left in my drawer.The rude man is still locked in with the boss. The hall is empty. A moment of peace. Then — darkness. The brush slips. Polish smears across my nail. "Damn it." The office is lit only by my monitor and the bill scanner. I turn toward the window. Night. People running outside. A city guard shouting into his radio. What just happened? What time is it? 10:14 AM.
[THE MAYOR]
"Prepare all the cash from the safe," I say, my voice shaking. "And get me the governor." A moment later — sunlight floods the room again. I stand on the balcony. Pale as death."Do not call anyone," he says calmly. I draw my gun. "DON'T MOVE OR I'LL SHOOT!" "Are you sure killing me solves your problem?" he smiles. A shot. He falls. He's still smiling.
Outside — darkness. The street stops moving. The clocks keep going. A child screams once. Then silence.
[ANNA]
I pick up the yellow mug. The coffee inside has dried into cracks. Today is a very strange day.