It was a warm evening in early July, and the clocks were striking - TopicsExpress

It was a warm evening in early July, and the clocks were striking seventeen. It had been another mind-numbing day in the Ministry of Fun and Winston Biller was hurrying for the train. The warmth of the evening sun caressed his face as he made his way through the throngs of people, each one wearing the same blank, vacant expression. Heads stooped gazing at a Vid-phone. It was now compulsory to have these. Winston hated them, always connected to the Network. That obtrusive all seeing eye. Privacy had been outlawed for decades, now you were all the Networks children. Every emotion scrutinised, every thought and every deed on public display. Anyone showing even the slightest hint of joy was guilty of Facecrime. It was always wise to follow the herd, keep emotions in check. Winston had perfected this look. The slightly haunted vacant expression of the masses...Once on the train Winston sat as far as he could from the Networks camera. That hideous obsidian dome that recorded every movement, every facial tic. Some said it could even read ones thoughts?. A group from the junior network of spies were sat at the next table. Each one wearing their Network Primark hoodies. Clutching their vidphones and tapping away silently. Winston tried not to catch their attention. This was dangerous as they were taught to record even the slightest deviation from the norm. Opening a can of Victory Cider he took a large gulp. Wincing as the rancid, metallic tasting brew hit the back of his throat. Winston gazed through the grime at the passing countryside trying to remember his childhood?. He had no real memories of a time before the Network, as far as he could remember it had always been here?. Surely though, we once had some kind of existence?. A life?. Was it always going to be like this?...Always at the mercy of the Network?....With that he pulled out his vidphone and accessed Facebook, resigned to the knowledge he would always be connected.....2084...A short story...A very short story by Tricky....Appologies to Mr Orwell.......:)

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