Every morning she packed her bag for the trip to work. An extra couple sweaters, her good warm boots and woolen socks, along with a few other warm items. In spite of the clothing she packed, Carrie dressed in shorts and a tank top, sliding sandals onto her feet as she left her front door, backpack slung over her back.
Outside, the day is just beginning. Warm and bright, the sun beams down upon the cobblestone street she traveled. It’s one of the few cobblestone streets left, and to be completely honest, Carrie hated them, especially when the light spring rains fell. Then the uneven stones were slick and she had to leave an ten minutes early just to make the sonic train on time.
Turning off her street, she joined the throng that made its way toward the train, all carrying packs filled with warmer clothing while they walked along in tank tops and t-shirts, shorts and short skirts. Despite the crowd, none of them touched anyone else. A relic of the old days, the days of the pandemic, and a habit that many still cannot break. When someone inadvertently stepped too close to Carrie, she shuddered involuntarily and scooted slightly away, watching her other side carefully to make sure she didn’t encroach on those beside her.
Finally, her feet touched the first step up to the train platform and she trudged up them, shifting the pack on her back to a more comfortable position. Sweat beaded on her forehead as the sun continued to rise and cast its rays down upon the residential city.
With the invention of the sonic trains, trains that could cross miles in the blink of an eye, the make up of the world had shifted. No longer did anyone want to live in the cold regions, where snow blanketed the ground as much as grass did. So residential cities had been established in the balmy, warm regions and work cities in the colder areas where snow dominated. It made for a very strange commute. Inside the sonic trains, instead of rows of seating, there were a multitude of individual rooms, pod rooms, only large enough for a single person and their bag.
Carrie made her way to the first available pod room and dropped her bag on the short bench. Right now, the air was a comfortable temperature, not as hot as outside, but warm enough that she didn’t feel a chill in her shorts and tank top. That would change soon enough. She kicked off her sandals and leaned against the wall to wait. After ten minutes, boarding was done and the train lurched into motion, moving slow until it cleared the outskirts of the residential city. Another 5 minutes passed with the train ramping up speed until Carrie’s ears popped.
As soon as that happened, she opened her bag and began to dig out the clothing she had brought. Pulling on thermal leggings before a pair of heavy pants, she then tucked her pant legs carefully into thick socks and pulled on her warm boots, stamping her feet to settle them.
The air was getting colder. Goosebumps appeared on Carrie’s arms as she pulled her long-sleeve shirt and sweater from her bag, tugging them both on and rubbing her arms briskly. Fully dressed with a warm hat over her ears, Carrie shoved her other clothes and sandals into her bag and pulled it shut.
The train would continue to cool as they moved, until it was only slightly warmer than the work city they would be stepping out into. It hadn’t always been this way, but over the years the designers had learned that this way helped curb sickness and ensured everyone was dressed appropriately before the train arrived at its destination.
When it finally rolled to a stop, Carrie stepped out with all the other workers and made her way down the snow-covered street to the office building she worked. Inside, it would be just warm enough that exposed skin was safe, your fingers wouldn’t freeze. Inside, all her coworkers would be dreaming of home, if only it wasn’t so cold as to cut all dreams short before they began.
Adjusting her bag once more, Carrie walked into the building, nodding a greeting to the bundled security guard, and making for the stairs. Her workspace was on the 5th floor, but to take the elevator for anything lower than the 10th was considered bad practice and earned you a black mark on your permanent record. It made things too crowded, and management hadn’t liked crowds for years.
Flights of Fancy 