Towards Yesterday

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The noise from the street was deafening. Excited shouting and singing blended with the occasional burst of raucous laughter, which in turn combined with the happy squeals of drunken women.

The whoop-whoop of a police cruiser’s siren fought to make itself heard over the combined voices of thousands of inebriated revelers. Instead, it became a counterpoint to the melody of raised voices and singing rising from the mass of dancing bodies as the squad car slowly pushed its way through their midst.

Jim Baston, his eyes red and tired, tried to concentrate on the paragraph he was writing, but the blare of the rowdy crowd below his window was just too distracting.

“Save tonight’s work and forward a copy to the house inbox, please,” he sighed eventually, before exasperation could get the better of him.

“Yes Jim.” The female voice of the computer’s AI was soft and comforting. “I’ve done as you requested Jim,” the AI said a second later. “Is there anything else you would like?”

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