I yawned heavily as I woke up from a good night’s sleep. I stepped into the electric slippers that massaged my feet whilst I walked, then I walked to my window and tapped here and there to check my emails. While I was busy, I told the voice activated house to increase the temperature by 4°C, then a coffee machine came towards me with a cup of boiling hot cappuccino, topped with whip cream, and waffles dipped in maple syrup.

The bed I had slept on made itself, and I sat down on the sofa as my slightly curved television turned on. Seeing that the TV was on the news channel, I quickly changed it by blinking because telekinesis was possible by the time. But, while I was watching TV, my cellular phone rang.

“Answer!” I said because the phone was voice activated. It was my publisher, and he was informing me that my poem, “Works of the Devil’,’ had gone platinum.

After the call, I knew that I had to prepare for work because I was employed at the national bank. So, I stepped into a certain device and, before I knew it, I was sparkling clean. Cleaning up only took a few seconds, and as for my teeth, I just stuck them in a small device and my mouth was minty fresh in a jiffy.

After cleaning up, I stepped outside the door into the highway, and it was mainly made up of electromagnetic tiles that repelled your car therefore allowing if to float. Cars, at the time, did not use keys or buttons. They just used fingerprints to turn on the engine. So, after stepping out of the house, I got into the car and, after traveling at speeds of up to 600km/h, I arrived at work within seconds.

To enter the building at work, you had to unlock the door not with a smart card, but with your wrist. We had data chips implanted in our veins, so I scanned mine and went work. There were only three parties involved in running the bank, and they were an AI computer, me as a human, and a dog. All the work was done by the computer, and the dog’s job was to guard the computer, while mine was to feed and clean after the dog. In the year 2055, robots had taken our jobs.

Another thing was that your name was no longer your form of identification. Inste¬ad, we used serial numbers. For example, I was no longer known as Surprise Mashaba. Instead, I was “DJM005”. Times had, indeed, changed.

***

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