The Six Foot Room - Part 2

in Scholar and Scribelast month (edited)


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       Jaym's finished his cup of nutri-paste and it went down as well as it did every other time; it never deviated from the mixture.

       How could they get it wrong? He wondered as he shook the empty cup, letting the dying straw rattle. Get a whole bunch of crap, blitz it up until it's easy to drink. He walked to the dispenser and dropped the cup into the recycling shoot. I hope you enjoy the cup as much as I did. He said in his head, conversing with his imaginary neighbour below.

       He didn't know exactly how many people called this tower home, but he knew he wasn't alone. While he may not ever hear them, Jaym's knew they existed. We're all just pale creatures, sucking at the B.R.A.N.C.H's teat. Sad little creatures now, unlike anything remotely Human. Their Humanity had been stripped completely. They weren't forced to give up their independence, they sold it.

       All of the holo-vids, and talking heads told of a time when the doors would be kicked in, and people would be dragged out. That never happened. It was actually relatively peaceful, whereas revolutions are violent. The conclusion, everything works in cycles. Peacefully people are corralled into a new way of life, until the people rise up against what they accepted in a violent outburst, and they find their freedom, only to be led toward the next way of life that they soon reject. It keeps life interesting.

       Jaym's saw his hand raised to the dispenser; it felt as though he had no control over himself. He pressed the button and felt in the mood for a pink drink this time.

       The screen grayed out all options. "Citizen, we have frozen your access to nutri-paste. If you would like to read our policy on over-indulgence and the negative effects it has on your body and mind, please click the information tab." A small jingle plays as the voice finishes. "This message is brought to by Medi-Branch."

       A small cup drops and a little rattle soon follows. "You have been prescribed an appetite suppressant." The chime plays once more.

       It was an earworm and would catch in his mind often. Jaym's couldn't remember any music he used to like, or listen to, the musical jingle that followed each pre-recorded message was the only music he could think of. Lyrics were a thing of beauty before, and music was a favoured pastime, in the old world. Soon, it all went away. He and everyone else had to let it all go, so they could be happy. He often wondered where it all went.

       Jaym's picked up the small cup and looked at the pill in the bottom of it as it danced around with each tilt of his hand. It was the one bit of percussion in his daily life. He threw it and watched the cup lazily fall to the ground, as the suppressant merrily escaped captivity, to get lost in the open space. The room must seem so large to such a small thing.

       A knock at the door distracted him from his search for his prescribed medication. He rested his eyes there, and let them hang for a while. I could not answer. He thought. Knuckles rattled against it once more. Is there any point in not answering? They'll just let themselves in any way, and my spark of rebellion would be extinguished.

       He walked to it, conflicted. Then stopped, as another bout came. Jaym's folded his arms, and decided to stand his ground, even though it was in vain. He'd have a choice, even if that illusion would soon be broken by the doorway slinking open against his wish of being left alone.


After a bit of a hiatus from writing fiction, I've got the bug once more and I'm hitting this new story hard. I'm enjoying the premise and overall tone of it, and while it's sci-fi, like what I typically write, it's actually a bit more dystopian.

I kind of like the premise of one character, alone in his head. My main/ favourite type of writing and scenes to do are usually dialogue-heavy. But, it's always good to mix things up and try new things.

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Dystopias are my recurrent nightmare. Nothing gets to me more than being oppressed by some bad mofos, so I don't think I would have a good time in this dystopic world, but it's fun reading about it.

Peacefully people are corralled into a new way of life, until the people rise up against what they accepted in a violent outburst, and they find their freedom, only to be led toward the next way of life that they soon reject. It keeps life interesting.

This idea popped into my head when I saw a video about the tiny house craze, coupled with the current housing crisis here in Ireland. I don't think it's too far-fetched to imagine us all living in tiny rooms, eating paste, using headsets to display the stuff we like on our blank walls/ shelves.

Mmm strawberry flavored paste might be nice

Wow, and I thought some of the stuff I wrote was dystopian....

I love it ! 😁

Thanks, I'm glad you liked it. I'm enjoying this, and I'm enjoying the tonal shift from dialogue-heavy scenes to a story with just one character stuck inside his mind. I think it's sort of helping me with more descriptive writing, which I think is a weak part of my writing.

Unlike yours, I've always loved your descriptions, you can really paint a vivid picture.

We should definitely do a collab at some point 😁 I write decent descriptions and suck at dialogue, you write awesome dialogue. Goodness knows when we'd find time for it, though, or how we'd arrange a workload where it's literally taking it in turns depending on whether it's dialogue or description !

That would be brilliant! Maybe the best way to do it - rather than scene by scene - would be to make a google doc, and each work on it. It's cool, because we'd be able to see the other person typing in real time.

We could have a bit of a brainstorm prior to it and get the ideas flowing.

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If you ever end up visiting the south of England (I'm sad, I rarely go anywhere.....), we could get together and pass the keyboard back and forth, bouncing ideas around as we go 😁

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That would be sick!

I have family in South Hampton and have been wanting to go over that way for a while now.

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