He had a habit of collecting things he did nothing with. The broken radios and television sets and watches he found at garage sales and op shops were never fixed. And yes, she was tired of it. And yes, he knew. And yes, he bought the teapot anyway. It was green, and it had an interesting swirl on it. There was something about it. It could have been worth something.
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It was his job to drive people to work. People would drop off their cars and wait in a lounge and he would ask them where they needed to go. Based on their responses he would pick three of them. His colleagues would take others. It was his job to be polite to these people; to call them sir and madam. He would not have called them this normally, but it was his job, so he did. It was also his job to gently ask them to get into his car and take them to their jobs. They usually did not want to go to their jobs, but the society in which they’d found themselves necessitated the illusion of productivity above all else. In this society it was important that things kept growing, or at least appeared to keep growing, so they went to work and tried to grow things that were very rarely physical things that could be seen to grow. Because they couldn’t see the things they were supposedly growing it was sometimes hard to tell if they were growing at all, and this often contributed to their waking up in the mornings full of sickening dread. He could usually tell when one of them was experiencing this dread. They stared out of the car windows at the city they couldn’t stop seeing and grunted a lot.