Flow

Overload

a.n. Jett - read like Joan Jett.

Tami - a futuristic kind of iPad or something like that. You'll get to see what I'm talking about.

Hope you enjoyed this part, it supper short, super weird and super duper stupid but y'know, what can a writer do but practice, right? Anyways, I'd like to hear what y'all think of this and if you'd be super nice vote or comment, or even better yet, both. I know you'll have fun spotting all the things I should've done and didn't. xD 

O V E R L O A D

Jett sat on the floor, her back leaned against the wall with her legs crossed. The window near her was open to let the small columns of smoke out. She had already lit her first morning cigarette as she thought of this world she lived in. Sadly, the priorities she had to live up to were a little different than a little while ago. The reality was much more cruel than anything she could ever imagine.

Although humans had changed quite a bit in the past few centuries, they remained centered around the society of other humans, granting them jobs, schools, lovers, and a sense of security. Jett's job used to be very simple.

Today, her job was different than the other days.

Usually, Jett is focused on stacking the supplies the others drag in from the Outside Farm, filing them in order and making sure nothing is missing. However, today was a bit different. She got a replacement.

A letter came for her this morning, showed up on her doorstep, nevertheless. It seemed so innocent, a piece of white paper with an address and a name stamped on it. When she opened it, she learned that she was no longer in charge of the supplies people brought, instead, she had been moved to help out the local librarian file all of the books that burned in the recent fire. Also, she was to keep an eye out for anything strange that could pop up in the library.

Now, Jett knew how to do her job, but spotting strange things in a half burned library was not one of the things she was good at. She spent a good chunk of the afternoon simply going around this small, feeble librarian named Gregor Thomas who kept the books in order. Since the old man despised technology, he put his trust of the books on paper and pen. That, of course, burned in the fire. Although the man is not yet senile, his memory could not keep all of the books in that gigantic library. Instead, he simply went on to pass by each bookshelf and try to remember which pieces of the old society stood there as a reminder to the world that nothing is permanent.

Mr. Thomas insisted that Jett follows him everywhere in order to get everything down - or as much as he could remember, that is. So far, they have not yet covered the G part of the library which was absolutely destroyed in the fire. When Mr. Thomas started looking flushed, seeing that there was nothing left to make his memory come to life, he started breathing very heavily. After he had calmed down, he set Jett off for an hour long break as he tries to remember anything.

It was already fourty-five minutes into the break. Jett was sitting near the window of the Y section of the library, carefully putting out her cigarette. One of the books of the old world sat in her lap, the letters on it were small and gray against the hard, yellow pages. The cover was gone and much of the text has been permanently gone with the years its lived through.

From all of the book she had ever seen, this one was her favorite. It was a story of a little girl who traveled to Atlantis. She was not sure what the exact name of the book was, nor she could make much of the story, however, something deeply connected her with that book. Maybe the fact that it has been always by her side, no matter what she went though, or the fact that it keeps surviving everything.

She spent her entire break thinking about how people in the old world were careless. They spent their trees on these pages and filled them with fictional stories, they stacked currency, meanwhile letting the nature suffer for the greed. It was something that she had thought about too often. Also, the fact that they were simply too naive to trust that They-Who-Fly would keep their promises. It was simply unforgivable.

However, they are the descendants of those who used to call themselves "humans." It was strange that a few generations could change this world so drastically, yet, we still all look the same. Nothing has changed from the past; yes, there is only a few functional communities left in this world that are not under the thumb of Those-Who-Fly, however, nothing has changed.

Humans are still, and Jett believed, always will be just that. A conscious race wishing they had power over everything. Even though there will always be someone more powerful.

She jumped to her feet, placing the book in the back of her jeans as she secured her gun on the opposite side and pulling out her tami . Walking through the sections, she quickly realized that Mr. Thomas was no longer at the section G.

When she finally reached the very spot she left him at, he was nowhere to be found. Sighing, she took the tami and tried looking for him through the software. The computer turned on, the screen lit up as it showed the different floors of the building. The small red dots indicated the bodies that were in the building, and as far as Jett was informed, there were only her and Mr. Thomas.

The building was no longer safe for other people to enter, so for these couple of days after the accident, local book lovers had stayed away from the library as they waited for the commissioner to examine the building. However, that was not yet scheduled to happen.

Another red dot appeared in the lower floors of the building. Jett stared at it for a few seconds, trying to understand how an elderly man got down six flights of stairs and then up another flight of stairs on the opposite side of the building.

"Miss, I believe I am ready to tell you all the editions in the G section."

Jett's eyes widened as she glanced up at the elderly man before her. His small, black eyes stared at her, ready to do their job. She glanced back down at her tami, noticing two red dots on the floor they were on. The third red dot was still moving around on the opposite side of the library.

She blinked, not believing her eyes. But as soon as she did, a message appeared across the screen of her tami. Jett breathed in, trying to calm herself as the automated voice started delivering the message to the other two people in this building: operation overload.