LONDON 2058 – OR IS IT?
As Apollo bent over and prepared for his punishment he glanced up at the orang utangs perched on the London eye and the Dolphins bounding playfully down the river in the warm November sunshine. The huge clock said London 2058 November 22 11 am, temperature 26 degrees centigrade. Apollo didnt believe it – any of it.The first lash hurt him and the crowd bayed for more……………
Apollo woke up and looked nervously at the warning device strapped to his arm . 10.am. Good. He wasnt too late. Venus was sleeping peacefully – they had made love last night for the first time in a month. The thought of that put him in a good mood so he selected light blue trousers and a matching t shirt from the moodrobe. He checked the chart first. Yes light blue meant quite happy – everybody had wear clothes to match their mood. It was one of the few sensible regulations the new regime had introduced. It made life so much easier. Of course people didnt have to know the reason for your mood – though sometimes Apollo would have liked them to, especially in cases like this, he reflected rather smugly.
Apollo strolled out into the sunlit street. It was a hot November morning and he swiftly joined a queue for some free sun block from the container on the street corner and smeered it on. He decided against chatting to the attractive girl in front of him – she was in green, slightly grumpy. Pity he wasnt near the beauty two people down: pink for ecstatic. Apollo ventured a smile as she skipped past him – and got one back.
He sorted out his metro fare – 50 euros and headed into the station. His ticket line was for POLISH SPOKEN so a check on his electronic translator found the Polish for “return to stop 5 on line A.” He handed over his cash to a man in Red – angry – who snatched it out of his hand.
2O minute later he emerged next to the River, a stunning light blue reminiscent of the Carabbean – due of course to the Mayors recent experiments with atificial colouring- had a quick drink from its pure acqua marine waters and waited at the same spot he had waited for the last three years. On the embankent, right next to the river. She would be here soon.
. He sipped some orange juice and put a Beatles song on his eplayer – even though they were banned. NORWEIGAN WOOD.
Couldnt beat it. Suddenly he felt a pair of lips on his neck.
Carlas. He turned round to hug her, running his fingers through her long blonde hair as it cascaded down her back. It felt and looked better than ever that morning – like a waterfall of liquid gold, glistening in the beautifully warm winter sunshine. Apollo sighed. For the first time in years it felt geat to be alive.
Suddenly as he placed his lips on Carlas and moved his hands down to her slim waist, a piercing siren sounded, disturbing the inner peace and calm Apollo was feeling.
OH NO. It was the Mayors newly formed morality police- heading towards them on a speedboat, guns at the ready. They had dodged the cameras – but that wasnt good enough these days.
He let go of Carla as a tear appeared in her eye. They both knew it was over.
“You two married?” the captain asked threateningly.
“Yes” Apollo replied, truthfully.
The captain sneered and scanned their eyes with his truth pistol.
“Yes” the captain affirmed, “but not to each other”. He noted smugly from his fact sheet.
He barked someting into a recording microphone in an incomprehensible foreign langauge then stared at them. His men had surrounded them and a crowd, sensing some action, was beginning to form.
“Im going to ask you one question” the captain growled addressing both Apollo and his lover. “If you answer correctly you will go unpunished.”
Apollo braced himself.
The crowd, mainly clad in red for angry, edged nearer.
“Who do you love – this girl or your wife?”
The people bayed and hissed.
A clap of thunder went off.
Apollo felt it was the most interesting question he had been asked in the last 5 years.
“My wife” he lied.
The captain sniffed. “Wrong” he grunted, “ Lift up your shirt for a back whipping.” Apollo obeyed instantly.
“Now you” the Captain said turning menacingly to Carla,”Who do you love?”
“Him” Carla answered truthfully.
“Wrong” frowned the captain. “We will deal with you later.”
As Apollo bent over and prepared for his punishment he looked over at the orang utangs swinging on the London eye and the Dolphins bounding playfully down river. The huge clock said London 2058 November 22, 11am 26 degrees centigrade. He didnt believe it – any of it. The first lash hurt him and the crowd bayed for more………….