Oh Brave New World (October Writing Competition)

The insistant buzzing of the alarm woke Jake from a fitful sleep. He reached up and slapped it into silence and then peered into the early morning gloom of the bedroom, and then at the form of his wife next to him. Rising from the bed he thumbed the light switch and grimaced as the ‘ecnoglow’ system cast it’s feeble rays about the room, reminding him that they were overstretched on the household personal carbon allowance, he would have to offset that and soon. he went into the bathroom and swiped his ID card to switch on the shower only to read that his energy allowance had been used up and that only tepid water was available from the system. Changing his mind he decided to use the lavatory and sat down. Swiping his ID card activated the system and he proceeded to defecate and urinate. He was immediately reminded by the tinny voice that his cholestoral and alcohol levels were approaching the cut off point and that his personal excreta allowance would soon be exceeded for the month and that he would have to use the private defecation unit, at a greatly increased cost, to rid the home of human waste.

Downstairs he eschewed the cooked breakfast as he was nearing his monthly limit for fat and calorie intake and that, coupled with the recent message about his excreta limit made him reach for a ‘nocal’ bar.. He walked from the house, got into the car and swiped his ID card to start it. ‘carbon footprint on limit’ went the tinny voice from the dashboard speaker and Jake groaned as he got out of the car and began the walk to the station.

In the office he struggled through his day and grabbed another ‘nocal’ bar for lunch. Feeling that he needed a kick to his system he entered a bar and orderd a large scotch. Thr barkeep took his ID card, swiped it and handed it back, shaking his head as he did so, ‘Sorry chum, your bang up to the limit for this month, no can do’. Jake looked at the government sealed ‘alcodispense’ and cursed. It was no good trying to bribe the barkeep as cash had gone from society, all purchases were made via your ID card which tracked every purchase, from a pin to a house. As he re-entered the building where he worked he stopped at the lavatory, and pondered whether to try and unload his pressing bowels. He swiped his ID card and tried it anyway and again was warned he was close to using up his allowance for the month, he carried on anyway. Although defecating in a public place was punished by prison and branding, many people did it but he had always resisted  and payed the extra for using the private contractor WC.

After the nightmare journey home, as it seemed half the population had busted their carbon allowances for the month, he entered his home and went to the drinks cabinet to pour a scotch. He swiped his ID card and was again reminded that his alcohol intake was on the limit and access to his ‘alcodipense’ was denied. He looked around the dimly lit room, at the blank screen of the ‘entacentre’, denied him as the carbon allowance had been used up and wondered what it must have been like to live in the ‘goodoldays’ of the early 2000s when you could drink, eat, buy and defecate as much as you wanted to, paradise he thought. He went upstairs  and looked at his wife, he undressed and got into bed beside her. He swiped his ID card into the ’stimucentre’ and was comforted to see a gentle green glow. He nudged his wife and she swiped her card into the same reader, prior to them having sex. Jake sagged in more ways than one as the stimucentre went red and a tinny voice said, ‘Sex denied, Sex denied, partner two has exceedeed personal allowance for this month’. ‘Sorry darling’, she responded, and turned over to sleep. Jake lay there staring up at the ceiling when it hit him, how come HIS allowance was ok and hers was used up, but right then he was to tired, to fed up, and totally pissed off to care.

Author: oldmovieguy

Another Boomer who wishes he had the stamina of youth to go with the cash of age. Fond of pricking the hot air balloons of pomposity and cutting little dictaors down to size. View all posts by oldmovieguy