Dyscountopia Read Online Free PDF

wants and get a way with it, couldn’t you, doll?   I was a young thing once, too, and boy did I like a bargain.   Not junk like this, but a real bargain, you know what I mean, sweetie?”
    The younger woman stood transfixed, anxiously watching the kitten struggle against nature and gravity, ignoring this intruder who vomited words onto the floor.   She could, she thought, hear the old woman’s blood pumping through her hardened veins; hear the slow, labored pulsing of her heart.
    “…, but if you want to see a real bargain, just go down to Sector 14, Delta Quad.   That’s where you’ll get some real steals.   Why, just the other day I – sweetie?   Honey?   Are you, okay?”
    The young girl had turned to face her, and something about the girl’s expression had turned the old woman pale.
    “I could kill you.”
    “Wha-wha-what?”
    “I could break your spine like a dry twig, right now, and no one would even see it or care.”
    The old woman stepped backward.   “Wh-why would you say something like that?”
    “I could strangle you to death with that hideous scarf.”
    The old woman tried to mask her fear with indignation.   “Young lady, I never -- .”
    “You will ,” growled the other.   “You will unless you turn back around right now and leave this place and never come back.”
    The old woman’s jaw continued to work in slow uniform motions, producing no sound.   Then, as if she’d suddenly become aware of her peril, she snapped her mouth shut and retreated down the aisle, waddling like an elephant seal.
    The girl was alone again.   Her face relaxed as thoughts of murder passed.   Turning her attention back to the picture frame, she reached out her hand and lifted it from the shelf.   She placed the thing gingerly into the pocket of her sweatshirt and walked away.  
     
    ****
     
    “Taxi!”   Albert’s hand shot into the air.   The shiny green floor shuttle pulled dutifully up next to him, humming softly.  
    “Hello”, it said in a woman’s voice.   “Thank you for using Green-Line Shuttle service.   Please insert your card.”
    Albert hurriedly pulled his credit card from his wallet and swiped it through the scanner on the side of the shuttle.
    The shuttle vibrated, thinking it over.   “Card approved,” it said.   “Please state your destination.”
    “Whispering Meadow Housing District, Number 5,” said Albert.
    “One moment…. That is a valid destination.   Please enter the shuttle now.”
    The door of the shuttle split open in the center, stopped, then closed again.   “Please enter the shuttle now.”
    “I can’t,” said Albert.   “The door isn’t open.”
    “Response not recognized.   Please enter the shuttle now.”
    Albert thrust his fingers into the crack, trying to force the doors open.   “This is silly.”
    “Response not recognized.   Please enter the shuttle now.”
    “Dammit!” Albert pleaded, pounding lightly on the door.   “Let me in.”
    “Response not recognized.   This shuttle will now take you to your desired destination.   A charge of 68 dollars will be deducted from your account.   Please fasten your safety belt.”   And the little green shuttle sped away toward Albert’s home, leaving a very distressed Albert standing alone on the vinyl tiles.
    “Sixty-eight dollars,” Albert muttered, hastily trying to memorize the customer service number on the back of the fleeing shuttle.   “Just wait ‘til they hear from me.   They’ll get a piece of my mind.”
    He thrust his hand into his pocket and fished out a tiny black device no larger than a book of matches.   Holding it gingerly between his thumb and forefinger, he recited the number into the phone.
    “ Hello, and thank you for calling Green-Line Shuttle customer service ,” said an automated voice on the other end of the line.   It was identical to the voice of Albert’s errant shuttle.   “ At Green-Line Shuttle we are committed to serving our customers by