The Death of Monopoly

a story
2014-02-20 11:05:50,
2016-02-29 19:00:00
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      “Let me out!” Lucas awoke, screaming.

      His heart pounded unceasingly against his chest. Sweat hung on his skin, forcing him to throw off his blankets and hold himself.

      “If I never get any sleep, it’ll be the death of me...”

      The hiss and clonk of mechanical footsteps got louder, and a bobble-headed ‘bot strolled into the room.

      “Morning, Bob.”

      It’s eyes lit up, literally, in salutation.

      “You’re looking a far cry better than I, old friend,” Lucas said inspecting the bags under his eyes in the mirror, “Forget the tea. I need something stronger.”

      Astam Junction was warm, and everyone down the street could be seen trying to stay in the shade. The bangarang of railway sounds swam in Lucas’s head, mixing with the erratic emotions from last night. His gaze fixed to his feet the whole walk over.

      He made this trip at least once a month to restock his supply of chocolate. The air inside was bittersweet, and dusty.  Lucas knew what he wanted, but he couldn’t pull himself to speak quite yet. The dream shook his very core, and browsing a sweets shop might, he thought, help to ease the urge to recluse.

      “Good morning, Adam. I’d like my usual prescription.”

      “Does Doc’ Bittersworth know you’re cheating on him?”

      “Yup, ” Lucas smiled, “ honestly, he thinks it’s better for me than any snake oil.”

      “How’s the work going?”

      “Alright. I’m still trying to get over this hump we’ve got with this new research machine.”

      “Hope this helps,” he said handing him a bag of chocolate, “you should see this new thing I’ve got back there for the taffy. I wasn’t in the market for anything like it, but the lady made a hard bargain.”

      Lucas brought his attention up to the back room window. An automaton without a head was busy pulling taffy with mechanistic consistency. Lucas looked at it in confusion, slightly upset.

      Adam looked worried. “Are you alright, sir?”

      “Yea, sorry, rough morning. Thanks.” 

      And with a quick smile, Lucas walked out.

      He was anxious and ruffled. He figured he would be better off going to work early today. Demidays were typically his to take off, but some time in the drawing room upstairs would be cathartic.