Bambrielle

Standing on the roof of an impossibly tall and beautiful glass building, a city of green and glass stretches around us in all directions as far as the eye can see. The sun is setting just slightly to the left, reflecting orange off the glass city and bathing everything in a surreal light.

I’ve recently started work as an assistant to a big shot CEO. My partner in the job is a young man with wavy auburn curls and a genuine smile. I like him already. Standing before the railing a few feet in front of us, Big Shot gives me and the young man a stern talk about maintaining a status quo of outstanding work, all the while, looking out at the city and the setting sun. The only view we get is of his back. He has a nice pinstriped suit, and his hair is well gelled. I don’t hear much of what he’s saying because I’m trying to remember what his name is; Steven? Stefan? I can’t remember.

Big Shot finishes his talk and takes his leave. The muted click of the door as he exits emphasizes the silence between the young man and me, now alone on the roof. Mason is his name, I think, and as I try to remember his surname said young man steps forward to look out at the city from the edge of the railing where Big Shot stood only moments before. Turning back to catch my attention, he gestures out toward the sea of orange glass.

“Isn’t it strange to think that we don’t know how old these buildings are, even though we use them every day?” he shakes his head in amazement and returns his gaze to the golden city.

I know how old these building are, but I choose to let his question hang in the air. All our history was lost when the internet crashed in the early 21st century, so no one can know I came from 2014 or I would never hear the end of it. Besides, life is better in this future. There’s no need to remember the damaged past.

Before he left, Big Shot told Mason and me we had some chores to take care of. After another few minutes on the roof, we figure it’s time to get started and make our way toward the stairs. Behind us, the sun disappears below the skyline and the roof access door slides shut with a muted click.