Charles Braddock: Man of the Future

Charles Braddock was wet. Charles hated rain. He was thinking about just how much he hated rain as he pushed his hat more firmly down over his short, graying hair. He pulled his tan trenchcoat tighter around himself and continued on at a quickened pace down the drenched but still bustling New York City sidewalk. Charles exhaled heavily as another shiver gleefully added to his misery by running up his spine.

Seeking refuge, he shuffled up to a small coffee shop, looking through the large front window to see light yellow tile and small round tables surrounded by high chairs. Making sure, he checked the bottom right corner of the window to see the newest government propaganda poster. This one proclaimed "Think First: Permit Before Pregnancy" in large black letters, with the revised American flag in the background.

All the details matched, this must be the place. Charles ducked inside and removed his newly soaked hat. He took a seat with his back to the wall and ordered a black coffee, silently thankful that this particular establishment still accepted paper money. It had been difficult to accomplish anything with his G-Chip shut off. Surveying the room, Charles noticed a group of students who had pushed together a few tables to accomodate all of them. He could see open textbooks, but doubted much was getting done as he witnessed one of the boys throwing an invisible football as the others listened to his story. Moving on, the only other customer was a small, nervous-looking man. The small man put down his coffee, pulled out a pistol, and shot Charles three times. Charles Braddock knew too much.

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--Regards,

Jack