On the Four-Hundredth morning of the Great Housing Initiative, three busses pulled into a brand new subdivision. The passengers, previously housed in an overcrowded repurposed motel, looked in awe at their new surroundings.
The busses were directed to the center of the subdivision that contained three hundred newly printed homes. Each one contained one bedroom, one full bath, a kitchen, a dining room, and a living room. Eight hundred square feet of living space.
The passengers unloaded from the busses and were directed to line up in five rows and columns.
“Alright, everyone. Welcome to your new homes.” Chester spoke through a voice amplifier. “Each of you has been given a number. When I call your number, step over to the tables to your right. You will be given a map that will lead you to your new home. Inside your home, in the kitchen, you will find a key to your apartment. It is your only key until you have a copy made.”
The crowd fidgeted, eager to see their new homes. Just a couple of hours earlier, they had been sharing rooms in a building that should have been condemned years ago. It had running water but the water didn’t just run from the faucets. It also ran from the ceilings and the walls.
Chester began calling out numbers and one by one the crowd moved from the lines to the tables. Charlotte was handed a piece of paper that showed where they were and where she would find her new home. She turned and headed toward her new life.
Off in the distance, several large machines were continuing to print houses. They weren’t as loud as she expected them to be, but they weren’t quiet either. She had grown used to the sounds of the construction machines. Some building houses, others building sidewalks. It had become the ambient sound of the area.
She looked at each house as she passed, each one identical to the one before with the exception of the number plate on the wall next to the door. She noted the size of the street. Just large enough for one vehicle moving in one direction. Not that it mattered. None of them had cars anyway. Even if they did, they wouldn’t have been allowed to keep it. All personal vehicles had been rounded up and recycled for building material and other things. The only vehicles allowed now were the ones for construction and mass transportation. Once the housing initiative was completed, even mass transit vehicles would be recycled.
She found her assigned home. Number One-Nine-Eight-Four. She stood at the door and hesitated. Behind her, people were rushing into their new homes. Squeals and cheers could be heard coming from her new neighbors. She didn’t feel so excited.
Surely it would be better than living on the streets or in a rundown should be torn down hotel. But she missed her own home. It was a little large for her to keep up on her own but it had all her memories. The children that she raised. Her husband. The family squabbles and dinners. The holidays with friends and families. The Christmas tree that was always too big but never had enough room for all the decorations.
She took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The layout was simple. A small foyer with a peg hook for hanging a coat. That opened to the living room. On the right was a full-sized kitchen complete with a center island. Between them was a dining area with a short wall separating it from the other two rooms.
In the other direction were the bedroom and full bath. The bathroom had one door leading from the hallway and another that led to the bedroom. A simple semi-open floorplan.
The bedroom had a queen-sized bed, a six-drawer dresser, and two nightstands with a small lamp for each. It reminded her of a middle-class hotel room. Not that there would be any of those left once the housing initiative was complete. She remembered hearing that there would be an allotment of one hotel per three hundred miles. The way the infrastructure was going there wouldn’t be a need for any more than that.
The living room had a nice couch. Faux leather three-person couch with a recliner on each end. She didn’t really care for faux leather but she didn’t have much of a choice either. Free was free.
There was also a communication monitor, movie player, and entertainment console mounted on the wall across from the couch. An artificial fireplace decorated the space beneath it.
The couch, she discovered, had built-in end tables that lifted from the side. The coffee table that sat between the couch and the aesthetic wall was the perfect color match. She would have preferred a glass-top coffee table, but again, free was free.
The dining room had a four-person chair and table set with a hanging lamp over it. That was all. Not a lot there. It was a place for eating and maybe a nice gathering.
The kitchen had all the amenities. Stove, sink, dishwasher, refrigerator, microwave, blender, coffee maker, and trash compactor. Everything electric and everything designed for top efficiency. She opened the fridge and was pleasantly surprised that it had been stocked. Everything neatly organized and labeled. It wasn’t full, but it had everything an average person would need. A starter kit collection. She opened the freezer and found a few more items. A frozen starter kit.
She checked the cabinets and found plates, cups, utensils, and all the basics for starting a new life in a new home in a new kitchen. Her excitement led her to the slide-out pantry and again, another starter kit.
Wondering what else she might find, she went back to the bedroom and opened the dresser drawers. Three full outfits were dispersed throughout the drawers. Everything she would need. She found the bathroom to be fully stocked as well.
She smiled as she danced around in swirls throughout her new home. Her new life started today.
Started here.
Starting now.
Micheal has a knack for unleashing worlds through words. 📚 Author of soul-stirring tales and heartfelt devotions. He crafts narratives that resonate with the human experience. Let's journey through imagination together! 🌟 #AllThingsEqual #EqualityWorld #Writer #Storyteller