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Last Hope



             Suddenly cold, he pushed himself from his sleeping pod to his feet. He let out a yawn, stepping onto the conveyor belt and pressing the green button in front of him. .
             The conveyor belt moved him to phase one: cleansing gel. The ceiling opened up and a thick molasses like goo dripped from the nozzle that was now exposed. It engulfed him totally, causing his skin to tingle all over. His eyes were closed but he could feel himself moving along the conveyor belt to the next phase: dyers. Warm air surrounded him and the gel hardened. He was moving again and then stopped at phase three: de-casing. He felt a soft tapping on top of his head, then heard a loud crack and the gel fell off of him and into the openings in the floor that immediately closed as soon as the conveyor belt started moving again. Phase four was Misting. He was lightly sprayed with water to remove any excess gel that could be stuck to him. Onto phase five, which was a second drying, and then onto Phase six: clothing. His wardrobe consisted of nothing but olive green slacks and black button up shirts. He grabbed one of each and dressed himself, pressing the "START" button when he was ready. Phase seven was Hygiene. Brushes came down from the ceiling and combed through his hair and out of the wall came a small tray with a teeth-casing gel on it. He placed the Styrofoam mold in his mouth, counted to ten, and took it out, placing it back on the tray. He was presented with a glass of water, which he took, gargled, and spit back into the cup, placing that on the tray and the conveyor belt started again. .
             He stepped off the conveyor belt and looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't see the man who everyone considered to be a hero. He saw the man who was desperately trying to keep this civilization from crumbling. He fixed his collar just as a beep resounded into the desolate room. Walking over to the bedside table he picked up his view-phone opened it.


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