A short story...

2009.

They always had you believe that the future would be full of new innovations. Orwell predicted that the world would be completely changed by 1984. Now it's 2009. We're in a state of regression. Every city looks the same. The people look the same. The last creative genius has ostensibly died out.

These days. You're lucky to get in a knife fight. Let alone zap someone with a phaser. Everyone wants to be a cage fighter. People don't even fight properly anymore. I remember when people used to be obnoxiously drunk. Say imaginative things. Then beat the shit out of each other. This is not a good world to live in. Why's the life expectancy going up? I don't understand this. Why would you want to live longer. In this world. Everyone is a fucking bore.

I wish I could time travel away from all of these dreary people. Maybes back to the dark ages. Times of yore with which hunts. I could find some bitch and nail her ass to the wall. ''Witch, you're a witch. You have no rights. You looked at me the wrong way. Now I'm nailing your ass to the wall.''

So there I was. Thinking. I want to time travel. And then holy deux ex machina, I was zapped up in a incredible bolshy stream of lightening and transported onto a space ship in the year 2342.

I hide behind some kind of wall. There's a lot of corridors on this ugly fucking space ship. And they're all a dreary yellow colour. I walk along. Some kind of intruder alarm goes off. I'm being chased by a slew of boring white robots. Similar looking to daleks. Maybes they were modelled on daleks from the 1960's. Wouldn't surprise me. Everything is probably even less creative in the year 2342. I start thinking about life. It flashes before my eyes. I think about Ayn Rand. That fascist. That bitch.

Then. One of the dalek look-a-like robots stops me. He says Hello. Asks me how I am. He's like the people back in 2009. I tell him the truth. I'm awful. I ask him where the nearest airlock is. I feel bad having to ask.

A few minutes later. I'm standing before the open airlock. Ready to throw myself out in the bleak vast dark abyss of space. Well it's better than living isn't it.

-Michael