Future Developments

It was a warm summer’s day. The streets of Hanon were especially crowded; a constant bustle of buses, cars, and pedestrians. A man led his son along one of the backstreets where it was less busy. A shortcut. The man was tall and stocky; he had brown hair and eyes, and wore a few days’ growth on his chin. His son was similar in appearance, but he skipped along the street joyfully whereas his father trudged along, discontent.

They kept a steady pace down the street. The boy stared in wonder at the homeless people bathing in the filthy grey water of the drainpipes to keep cool.

“Dad-” the boy began.

“Not now boy.”

He dropped his head and kept walking.

Through the heat, they made their way from the busy inner city through the trade district and towards the residential quadrant.

“Bill?” said a man on the sidewalk. He was perched under a bus stop shelter; he was wearing all black.

The boy’s father looked up at the man in the fine black suit. “Hey Geoff,” He said, “How’s this weather?” He said incredulously.

“It’s quite ridiculous.”

Bill nodded. “How’s the wife?”

They continued with their conversation, but the boy was far more interested in an old war veteran across the road.

“Dad, can I -“

“James, can’t you see I am talking?” His father said in a much more endearing tone than before.

James made his way across the road. The old veteran had fashioned a neat little stall from old doors and scraps of wood. On top of the stall, laid out in a remarkably organized manner were several trinkets, precious rocks, and dozens upon dozens of other strange objects.

One that caught his eye was a small silver prism with a screen and several buttons with labels he couldn’t decipher.

“Excuse me,” James said.

“Hello there young man.” The old veteran piped up, “What can I do for you?”

James smiled, glad for the attention. “Um,” he said, his eyes darting back to the prism, “What’s that?”

The old veteran’s eyes flashed as he picked up the object. “Well, this here is quite special. It’s a radio.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a device which picks up frequencies from all over. Voices, music, you name it.” He saw James expression, “Mind you, all that is done by micro-waves and what not these days.”

James scanned the table again. Amongst a steering wheel and several cans of constituted beans was a black box about as big as his fist. “What’s that?” he asked in wonder.

“It’s a camera.”

“A what?”

The veteran smiled. “A Camera; it takes pictures. Still pictures.”

James looked back over the street at his father. He was still in conversation with Geoff.

“How much?” James asked.

“Well, it’s pretty valuable, but I suppose I could part with it for $20.”

James frowned. “I have $5. And that’s a month’s pocket money.”

The old veteran considered James for a minute. “Well alright then!”

He took the camera and wrapped it in an old sheet. “Be sure to come by again.”