Out of Time
by 
LMJT
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Posted: 01 September 2008 Word Count: 425 Summary: Hello. This is my piece in response to Oonah's 'Out of Time' flash challenge. Any comments gratefully received. Thanks in advance. Liam |
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As X sits in the waiting area, other people walk around him, talking into hologram headsets, visions of friends before them. Chat, chat, chat.
'I'm so busy,' says one woman. 'I haven't even had chance to inject my food for the last week. I know, I know. I know!'
When his number is called, X steps onto the conveyor belt and is taken to the chrome counter that's cool to the touch.
‘Yeah?’ the server asks.
Customer service has long since died.
‘I want a new heart,’ he says. ‘And new lungs. I'm getting breathless all the time. Can I book a facelift here too?'
The server sighs. ‘Yeah, but you’ll have to wait till next week for the heart. And the right lung. Limited stock. Anything else?’
‘I need some time. Maybe forty years, or fifty. Let's say fifty.’
The server laughs. ‘Seriously?’
X nods. 'What’s the joke?'
‘Didn’t you hear? We ran out of time six months ago.’
‘You don’t have any more?’
‘What do you think?’
‘Where did it all go?’
‘Some corporate companies took a whole load.' The server tries to repress a smile. ‘And we get staff discount, so-,’
‘But what’s the use in having health if I don’t have any time?’
The server taps into his computer. ‘When did you last top up?’
‘On time?’
‘Yep.’
He thinks for a moment. Was it last year? 2093? Or the year before? ‘Christmas 2092,’ he says. ‘I had a voucher. From an aunt.’
The server whistles. ‘Sorry, can’t get you time. If you’d said Easter 2107, we could have given you two days. Don't know if you remember, but we ran the ‘Bring Back The Dead’ promotion.’ He shrugs. ‘Got to honour any purchases made. The manager's majorly pissed. You still want the facelift?’
X thinks. He’s never thought of this before, has he? He’s never imagined he could run out of time. It’s always been something there’s been plenty of, something, like everything, that he could buy when it ran out.
‘But no one told me,’ he says, hearing a childish whine in his tone. ‘I haven’t done half the things I wanted.’
The server glances at the screen. ‘You’ve still got five years left.’
‘That’s not long.’
‘Well, you know the rules. Standard top-up every three months. Really, I could report you to the G.’ He hands him a receipt and glances over X's shoulder at the hordes of people in the waiting area. ‘Look, you want the face-lift or not? I got a ton of people to see.’
'I'm so busy,' says one woman. 'I haven't even had chance to inject my food for the last week. I know, I know. I know!'
When his number is called, X steps onto the conveyor belt and is taken to the chrome counter that's cool to the touch.
‘Yeah?’ the server asks.
Customer service has long since died.
‘I want a new heart,’ he says. ‘And new lungs. I'm getting breathless all the time. Can I book a facelift here too?'
The server sighs. ‘Yeah, but you’ll have to wait till next week for the heart. And the right lung. Limited stock. Anything else?’
‘I need some time. Maybe forty years, or fifty. Let's say fifty.’
The server laughs. ‘Seriously?’
X nods. 'What’s the joke?'
‘Didn’t you hear? We ran out of time six months ago.’
‘You don’t have any more?’
‘What do you think?’
‘Where did it all go?’
‘Some corporate companies took a whole load.' The server tries to repress a smile. ‘And we get staff discount, so-,’
‘But what’s the use in having health if I don’t have any time?’
The server taps into his computer. ‘When did you last top up?’
‘On time?’
‘Yep.’
He thinks for a moment. Was it last year? 2093? Or the year before? ‘Christmas 2092,’ he says. ‘I had a voucher. From an aunt.’
The server whistles. ‘Sorry, can’t get you time. If you’d said Easter 2107, we could have given you two days. Don't know if you remember, but we ran the ‘Bring Back The Dead’ promotion.’ He shrugs. ‘Got to honour any purchases made. The manager's majorly pissed. You still want the facelift?’
X thinks. He’s never thought of this before, has he? He’s never imagined he could run out of time. It’s always been something there’s been plenty of, something, like everything, that he could buy when it ran out.
‘But no one told me,’ he says, hearing a childish whine in his tone. ‘I haven’t done half the things I wanted.’
The server glances at the screen. ‘You’ve still got five years left.’
‘That’s not long.’
‘Well, you know the rules. Standard top-up every three months. Really, I could report you to the G.’ He hands him a receipt and glances over X's shoulder at the hordes of people in the waiting area. ‘Look, you want the face-lift or not? I got a ton of people to see.’
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