Re: God From The Machine
I will do my best 2 keep it up. But writing iz hard u kno. Tanks u for de encoruagements. it meanz awot 2 me. 
(Damn, that was painful to write. My brain hurts.)
He snuck a glance at his teacher, Mistress Dominique. The students all called her Miss Dom. She paced the front of the room like an agitated lion, smacking her riding crop in her palm as she lectured. He sat up a little straighter in his hard chair and tried his best to look like he was paying attention. He’d been on the receiving end of that switch so many times just watching it lazily swish through the air made his bottom tingle with memories of its painful bite.
It’s a shame Miss Dom was so mean because she was so pretty. She wasn’t all that old, either, for a teacher. Her skin fascinated him. Instead of the usual creamy peach or ivory, it was a deep dark chocolate. He told himself the attraction was because it was such a rare color since non-Aryans were scarce. Miss Dom kept her hair dyed the proper shade of blonde; she was religious about her root touchups. She’d even had her eyes spliced, a corrective surgery to make them the ideal Aryan blue.
Josef thought they looked better brown. At seventeen, it was perfectly natural for him to think his teacher was pretty. He thought girls in his class were pretty too, but they never seemed to notice him.
Miss Dom turned to the huge screen behind her and started tapping on the touch sensitive screen to bring up notes. He remembered learning about when the Reich was founded in the 1940’s, the touch screens were weird rectangles of slate called black boards and they were green or black in color. Teachers had to write on them by hand with an erasable substance called chalk. Such a primitive way to learn, but that was centuries ago…
His gaze strayed back out the window when a bright yellow ball bounced by. A group of elementary students were outside for recess. They laughed and squealed as they kicked the ball around. He sighed deeply, wishing he could be that young again. How he envied their simple happiness and carefree joy. He wanted to feel the warm sunshine on his head and the cool breeze caressing his skin as he enjoyed the simplicity of chasing a ball with his friends. Life was so uncomplicated at that age…
He’d be eighteen in eight months and graduating highschool. Then it was off to an electrical school then an apprenticeship with an electrical engineer. His future, determined by his results of the Aptitude Test. He wasn’t looking forward to his future. He’d rather have gone to college for botany. Maybe opened up his own florist shop. He’d always liked plants, particularly flowers. But the Aptitude Tests were never wrong. They used science and stuff to determine what career a person was best suited for. That’s what everyone in authority told him when he asked. So he kept his opinion to himself.
At least electrical engineering was better than some jobs. Like the Death Head section of the Schutzstaffel. He wasn’t sure what they did. No one ever talked about it. But everyone feared their very name. People who attracted their attention disappeared into thin air. One day they were there, the next, poof. Gone without a trace. Like they never existed in the first place. He’d learned at a young age to never ask questions about the Death Heads.
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