55th Floor is a dystopian science-fiction novel in the style of Fahrenheit 451, stressing the ideas of individuality, meaningful thought, and limpathy. If you like it, please join the 55th Floor Facebook page.
For reviewing this post, please read it slowly; it loses a lot of meaning if it is read quickly.
Life was good for Ernie. Life was not like those Actifilms he saw in grade school. Back then, the cars ran on gas, which polluted the environment and contributed to the E22 scare. Life was easy and provided for. Poverty had been eliminated with the Hudson Acts. Religion was basically dead, except for a few fanatics in the mountains of that Western country - What was it? - Silicia? Yes, that seems right. Crime had died out with the end of poverty. The United States was the pinnacle of civilization, on top of all those swords, crowns, guns, and ballots of eras past. Yes, life was good.
Ernie walked home from work every day. It helped his mind unwind from the stress of the office. He had to deal with the worst clients. Ranting, raving lunatics eventually ended up at his line, where Ernie had to calm them down enough to talk some sense into them. He dealt with extremely stubborn donkeys, snooty egomaniacs, backwoods hicks, hysterical parents, and those bigots that seemed content with insulting every minority in the U.S. and beyond.
Life was still good. Ernie had a high-paying job because of all the verbal abuse he had to take. This rather large paycheck helped the standing at home, where his wife, Georgina, and two children, Anna and Ryan, loved the new gadgets that seemed to come out every day. His late hours at his job, Ernie felt, alienated him from his family. He heated up leftovers when he got home from work, usually past nine o'clock. His family's incessant mind-numbing entertainment annoyed him. When the booming bass of the "fully immersive life-games" really got to him, he went up to his home office, read the paper, and filled out the crossword. The "paper" was no longer made of paper, but the name still remained as a reminder of times past. Ernie liked the crossword. It gave him a direct, measurable challenge to pit his mind against. With all the unquantifiable arguments he took at the office, he needed time to think logically and definably. Ernie's life was relatively straightforward.
The problems began one snowy night, while driving back south along Highway 93. Ernie had to personally go to one of the stores to resolve a complaint. Om the way back, the snow was falling heavily, and the snowplows were running late. A dangerous layer of partially melted snow poised an obstacle to the automated car. The car, sensing the slippery conditions, tried to slow down, but its attempt was too little, too late. Ernie's car slid off the road and into the ditch.
Jarred from his sleepiness, Ernie tried to call emergency, but his phone was out of power. He had nothing to do but wait. And sleep.
"Hey, you OK?"
Ernie opened his eyes, blinked a few times, and looked at an unfamiliar face at his window.
"I saw your car in the ditch and I came to see if you were OK. My car is nice and warm."
As if sleepwalking, Ernie hobbled over to the mysterious person's car. A warm cup of hot chocolate from his rescuer woke him up.
"My name is Alice," she explained, "and I saw you in the ditch while I was driving by. What's your name?"
"Ernie. Thank you for seeing if I was all right."
"Oh, it was nothing. Really. I'm driving back to Silicia from Maine, so I need something to break it up. When I saw you in the snow, my natural reaction was to check on you."
"Have you called emergency yet? My phone is out."
"Yes, I called it a few minutes ago, when I first saw you. The roads are bad. It will probably take them a while to reach us."
"Alright. Thank you."
Ernie sat back in the passenger seat and relaxed. It was unusual that he would have free time to spend. Usually, he was getting ready for work, at work, eating, sleeping, or out somewhere with his family. Because he was used to continuous engagement, it did not take him long to become bored.
"What do you do for a living?" Ernie asked Alice.
"I do a lot. Poetry, music, drama, columns, editorials, novels, performing, and a few more. I thrive on creativity."
"Poetry? Like 'Roses are red'? Shakespeare? Really?"
"Absolutely! Here, let me read you one of my poems!"
Alice rummaged around through a few boxes she had in the back seat of her car, and came out with a small, ornate, green-blue booklet tied together with pink and white ribbon.
"This one I titled 'Words.'"
Alice began reading.
"The words flow together
Run together
Weaving together to make
The tapestry of another world.
"The art of each sentence
Enraptures its audience
And brings to life
Characters and worlds unheard of."
"Don't poems rhyme?"
Alice laughed. "Not necessarily," she said. "Rhyming gives a nice structure to the poem, but I find that it limits my options. I have a rhyming one, if you would like." Alice flipped a few pages and came to another poem. She began reading.
"Tumbling through a world of nothingness
I am smothered by everything there
Trying to hold something more than the world
I am crushed, I am scared
"It has lain down its head to rest
Without it, I am gone
I try and try to bring it back
But it's already over and done"
"Did you write that?"
"Yes, I did."
"It's nice...What inspired you to write that?"
"Well, I looked back to when writers, actors and poets were revered by society, and when creativity was admired. I think creativity emerges from hardship, and with how things are going, there won't be much poetry."
Ernie heard sirens in the distance. "Emergency must be here," he said. "Well, thank you for everything!"
Alice handed Ernie the poem booklet. "Here, have this. I think you might want it."
"No, I couldn't take it."
Alice insisted. "Please do! It's a gift!"
Ernie gave in and took the book. Stepping out of the car, he thanked Alice again, and walked to his car, now back on the road. He climbed into it, started it up, and soon was traveling again. Ernie pulled out the poem booklet and started reading.
Thank you to all who read to the end of the first chapter! Please leave a review, any comments would be appreciated. Unless it's meaningless jargon.
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