Feeding time was efficient. Brutally so.
Employees would line the walls of the bright, harshly lit hallway at the same time every evening. Always single file, always by section color.
Green. Orange. Blue. Yellow.
Just the way The Bureau commanded.
But a Yellow had reached his limit. Watching your best friend vanish permanently, courtesy of armed sentinels will do that.
The Yellow needed change. Now. He was tired of waiting his turn, of seeking permission about where and when he could have his meals.
So today he was going to cut the line.
Today, he was going to eat first.
The Weekday One Hundred 