John 76359

By Frederick Zaccarini

In the future, it is a life of tedium for John 76359, with each and every passing day having the same beginning and the same end, but things are changing! John is also changing, as he starts to question everything around him. His past, his present and what future! Like a chained dog that can’t escape, he explores the parameter of his known world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frederick Zaccarini
• Release date: Jun 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311275899

Frederick Zaccarini

I am of Italian extraction, born in Scotland and have lived there all of my life. Although Frederick is his first name, I am known by my friends and colleagues as Tony, which is my Middle name. During my school days I was a real trouble maker and because I was not interested in conforming, found it to be a real challenge. I was keen on athletics and particularly in track and field where sprinting was my specialty. I graduated from the college of commerce and worked for Thompson Regional Newspapers in Aberdeen, where I became the manager of the design art studio and was heavily involved in advertising, marketing and promotions. Following that, I went on to be the creative director of an advertising agency, was heavily involved in the print industry and subsequently migrated into a business development role in upstream oil and gas. In my younger days in the 70's, I was a drummer in various rock bands, wrote many songs and jingles, and was an accomplished painter and artist. I was also was a keen on amateur dramatics, and played countless rolls on stage. Now at the age of 62, I have started writing and enjoy this latest chapter in my life.

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John 76359

This is a work of fiction.

Any names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2016 by Frederick Tony Zaccarini

John 76359

CHAPTER

1

The light filtered slowly through John's bedroom window. He could sense the warmth in colour, as his eyelids flickered mercilessly against the encroaching intrusion.

No, he thought, Five more minutes.

He was reaching the surface now, his eyelids glowing hot as the thin translucent film shielded his senses against the strong bright light.

Not yet, please.

His head ached, his body objected to the dawn and the pain it would soon bring.

Bastards! He screamed from the depths of his stomach, too late now, he was beginning to surface. Slowly his eyes opened. The ceiling, as usual, glowed brightly from wall to wall, as the low voltage drone started to gain momentum. Just another day for John!

Good morning, John! exclaimed the voice from the monitor on the wall. John briefly glanced up at the screen, as he stretched to clutch his first cigarette of the day. His eardrums almost bursting as the flame ignited, magnifying the sound of sparks that danced around his head. He drew deeply, filling his lungs with the sweet tasting drug, he held for an age, then spewed a thin column of smoke into the stale, and humid air.

Turning to face the window, he gazed from the vast expanse of glass that covered the entire surface area that was the left hand wall of his room. The Tower Block looked further away this morning he thought. Fifty metres away, the adjacent building was beginning to come to life like some ancient computerised console that had been fired up for the first time in a thousand years. Some cells were already fully illuminated. John saw the occupants stir and move around, whilst others flickered and flashed into life. Soon almost all the rooms were fully lit, except the usual ones, the ones that never lit.

Get up now!

John's shoe bounced back from the end of the annoying monitor and fell heavily to the ground. The fall broken by repeated layers of rubbish and cigarette cartons which decorated the floor of his room.

Fuck Off! he yelled Fuck Off!

The heating system was now beginning to start its daily grumble. It groaned, hissed and leaked in the damp putrid corner of John’s room, as the gallons of piping hot rusty water circulated endlessly round the system. Occasionally it dripped from an ill fitting pipe that had split and leaked the foul smelling liquid from a crystallised gash just below the joint at the bottom of the radiator.

John turned again to check the progress of the illuminating monster, the last flickering light finally ignited. It was a comfort for him to see Orion stand out in all its glory. He had grown quite attached to the sight of the Tower Block opposite and the shape formed by the darkened rooms, the ones that never lit. As he watched, it was almost hypnotic seeing all those people moving around, turning this way and that, like excitable bees in a busy honeycomb, he thought.

A veritable hive of activity, he said from under his breath, as he sniggered quietly to himself. From where he lay in bed, John could just make out the top of the building at the eightieth floor. Above this and to the right, the sky was a strange monotone grey that could barely be distinguished from the edge of the smooth moulded masonry. The appearance it gave was that the rooms were somehow two dimensional suspended columns of light.

The windows to a thousand souls! he thought.

John 76359 get up!

Turning slowly towards the source of voice, John stared piercingly at the monitor.

76359 get up now!

The monitor was suspended above the radiator and dominated the right hand corner of his room. Within the vision area of the screen, the head and shoulders of an imposing man in his mid thirties. His features and jaw line were strongly defined, his skin sallow in complexion with deeply pitted acne marks, the result of a difficult transition through puberty. Short cropped hair, vivid powder blue eyes, and a black polo neck top completed the menacing look.

Get up now John, said the man. John continued to stare defiantly at the screen and very slowly and deliberately stubbed out the remainder of his cigarette.

Fuck off Max.

The pain started almost before he had finished his sentence. It was so intense that he immediately crouched in the foetal position. From the back of his neck, and across the top of his head shot the sharp piercing pains, repeatedly stabbed and stabbed.

Alright, alright! he cried, I’m getting up.

Max grinned to reveal a gold plated canine tooth which glistened in the studio lighting. Slowly the pain evaporated then gradually disappeared. Keeping his eyes firmly locked on the screen, John eased himself to his knees and then finally to his feet.

Every week, said Max as he shook his head from side to side.

Every week without fail.

As the screen went blank John was aware that the piped music had started. It was louder than usual. It was just Max’s childish way of annoying him thought John.

Stupid fucker if he thinks that stuff will get to me. He quickly pulled on some clothes, and made a real effort to make up for the lost time, after all there was no point in antagonising Max any more this morning, his head was already sore enough, besides he had made his point and he would miss his startfast if he didn’t hurry up.

He quickly dressed in his usual dark grey boiler suit ignoring the smell of stale sweat which surrounded the garment and which became ever more intense the more he struggled. Bending down to fasten his boot straps, his eyes wandered across