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The Fuel

Rexies and PB & J

The aisles were ghostly because only fifty people were allowed at one time as the attendants kept count. I took a right towards the cereal aisle and looked at the top shelf. The organic cereals were only available for Tier 1 and I wanted to grab the peanut butter and jelly flavor when a sweet voice came from behind me.


"PB & J is a classic," she said. I turned around and a wavy haired brunette stood before me.


"You shop Tier 1?" I asked. Her voice reminded me of soft rain that chilled my vertebrae.


"Afraid so," she smiled and showed me her shoulder with the chip underneath her blouse. 


"Let's check," I asked her. Before we could build any form of friendship, The New Order only allowed the same Tiers to communicate or build relationships, and only those who would further the goals of The New Order through inter-marriages would be allowed to date. The New Order restricts dating in certain communities because those who were attractive, intelligent and from high level incomes were picked to benefit the higher tiers, thus benefitting the fulfillment and desires of The New Order to keep the tax levels at a maximum. 


We stood back shoulder to shoulder, my left shoulder as all males were to have, to her right shoulder as all females were normally assigned. Then we took our time device with alligned all social medias and all forms of identifications, to synchronize to check if our relationship and communications would benefit The New Order. 


Most relationships in our world now, as a matter of fact, most families were formed based on the needs of The New Order Regime and those in the government and its politicians and social circles. If the relationship couldn't be verified as a benefit to the regime, it was forced to be dissolved. 


Our synchronizations didn't verify.


"I'm sorry," as our time devices beeped an error message. She looked to the floor, and raised her head slowly, "I'm going to end up in Tier 3 in my future. I am so scared," she said. 


"You don't know that?" I replied. 


"I have a Rexi, would that interest the regime? If I shared my Rexi?" she told me.


"Really? Do you have a picture of it?" I was interested.


She took her time device and scrolled to her holograms and pushed the button. Rexies were cross-breeds of puppies and calves that became an animal the size of a bear cub with strong legs and arms for our modal of transportation. After The White Plaque, all forms of public transportations were exterminated and only the military and police were to utilize all vehicles. Uber and Lyft were old dominions and they were gone after millions died as their vehicles became a fomite to transmissions for The White Plaque. My Father said it was the most devastating event in history because ever since then, everyone walked and began to raise animals as transportations, and that was how Rexies became a trend. 


Other animals such as bears, crocodiles, hippopotamus, seals, goats and everything else also cross-bred but Rexies were swift and docile, whereas everything else were difficult to train.


Her Rexi had short hair, and the size of a mid-size bear with calico colors. 


"Is it part feline?" I asked, with a smile.


"Perhaps in its geneaology, but Rexies are mixed, so there is no way to tell," she said. 


"Cute, though," I told her. I placed my palms inside my pants pockets, hiding my time device on my wrist to evade any humiliations on both parts.


"I'll take a box of the organic PB & J cereal still," she said.


I smiled from ear to ear and felt a jolt inside my gut. Would Rambo approve of this? He's my closest ally.


Just write.

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