John gazed into the mirror, presenting himself for his daily retinal exam. Always the longest four seconds of his day.
Results were binary. Green light, good. His cell door would slide open, and he could proceed to the assembly line for a long, grueling shift.
Red light… unclear. Hadn’t happened yet. He’d heard rumors though. Guards in hoods. Tasers. Extensive reeducation therapy. He’d seen the end results too. Smart, energetic coworkers turned into functional zombies.
John looked to the two dormant lights above the mirror, waited for his test results.
Maybe a red light wouldn’t be so bad after all.
The Weekday One Hundred 