Mohammed Adnan's '2047'

I told you. I told you I'd add 36 years. Just an example of the psychic power I'm going to be employing in this post. If you've got a bit of a phobia about all things ghostly and supernatural, then I'd recommend you keep reading as there's nothing of the sort anyway.

It was a bit of a crap day in June and clocks were broken. William Churchill was tapping the beat of a song called 'Same' by The Unchangeables, a band of identical quadruplets who all played instruments manufactured by Simple. After a little while and a lot of boredom, William got out of his room, running past the newspapers strewn across the floor like someone had used the Daily Paper as confetti in some sort of extravagantly plain wedding. The words 'Cloning is the way forward, exclaims clone' was on every page of each paper. William got out of his cubic flat, only to see more cubic flats line across the way, each flat spaced equally apart.

Rain pattered on the ground outside. It did not pitter. Just another example of the many changes that had occurred in recent years. The pavement outside had become uniform to reflect the homogenised society we now lived in. The bell would be ringing soon and people would be walking out of their houses and towards the work factory where all administrative duties and computer-related business took place which kept the cog of society grinding slowly to churn out the little meaning given to the lives of the people inhabiting the town. All the stores around were either delapidated or on their way to being so. The work routine was organised by the mayor's Work Policing Unit, who ushered the people towards the factory and stormed into the houses of those had not left and fished them out.

William looked at his calculator watch, which had now been termed 'retro' in 3 different generations. It read 2.20pm. He looked up and saw the train station he had been running towards. As he got in and approached the platform, stopping before the 'Mind The Gap' warning, his train pulled in, scraping the rusted metal and letting out a screech which mirrored his yearning to leave. He got on the train and as he did so, he could see others doing the same; eagerly hurling themselves onto the train to escape the grimness. Ennui lived in splendour here and William had had enough of his company. As he bustled his way past the crowded train, many of whom were looking towards the heavens as if salvation had engulfed them, the train began to move. William found a nice floor spot where he could sit and see a window. As Slough passed him by, he'd return to normality. Nothing had really changed in the last 36 years anywhere else. But Slough just got worse.


I bet you were thinking that this was a glimpse into some washed-out future. However, everywhere is pretty much the same or more vibrant, except a few towns here and there. They're just stagnant. Let's be honest; things aren't gonna change that much in 36 years... are they?