Cheery Little Monochrome World
Fiction
Daniel’s stomach folded twice over upon itself as the subway train squirmed through the network of uniform concrete veins that ran beneath the city streets. It wasn’t that the ride was a rough one — transportation services were excellent in whatever city this was (the name eluded him for the moment but the subway was good anywhere you went). The teal interior walls were cleanly scrubbed, the comfort filters doing superb work in cleansing the air of the aromas of perspiration, fast food, and cigarette smoke. It was enough to make one feel sorry for the drivers on the streets above whose own personal vehicles — produced as they were by dinosaur companies that yet resisted the call of rationality — had no similar guarantee of sanitation and comfort. No, if there was anything tightening the vise on Daniel’s gut, it was internal — jet lag, exhaustion, stress, all the unpleasant hallmarks of an otherwise prestigious position. Experience had not yet gifted him with a tolerance for the mental and physical rigors of constant travel.
“You feeling okay, pal?”
“Me?” Daniel locked eyes with the friendly gray suit in the next seat, a fellow business nomad who had taken notice of Daniel’s distress. “Sure, just a little worn out from the road.”
“I hear that.”
