250 words

Smoke funnelled out of the towers, corrupting the once blue skies, birds no longer sang over zone 17. Tall-Men patrolled the streets in their metallic skeletons, towering over the roof tops, In Search of any sign of proletarian disobedience. Speaker’s enjoined factory workers to report suspicious behaviour to their section's overseers. Workers roamed the street, aided by their breathing apparatus, factory work was done in sordid conditions, and the fumes did malign things to the lungs. The wildlife channel played through apartment C-137, rhythms of bird song echoed off the dank walls, the So-Light shone a light orange, dictating the time of day. Arthur awoke to the usual sounds of the workers returning home, the wheezing creak of their breathing machines could be heard even from the top of the apartment block. Much as he wished, the bucolic atmosphere brought to his apartment via the radio did nothing to draw away from the deplorable state of Zone 17, the wheezing of the plagued workers kept him entirely aware of what was at stake. The oligarchy ensured that individuals dare not step out of bounds, the Tall-Men were inimical to those who attempted to stand together against the Overseers. Arthur could not trust anyone with his findings, lest he be sent to the ministry of readjustment, no, until he researched this further, it must stay with him.