Elias sat at his kitchen table, eating from a box labeled . It tasted of toasted grain and nothing else. He looked at his wife, who was wearing a DRESS (BLUE) .
The sky over the city was a flat, unrendered gray. There were no clouds, only the suggestion of them. In the city of Générique, every building was a perfect, windowless cube of brushed concrete. Every car was a matte-silver sedan with no brand name on the grill. GГ©nГ©rique
Elias looked at the bottle cap. For the first time in his life, he felt a sharp, stinging pain in his thumb where the metal pressed against his skin. It was a sensation that didn't have a label. It wasn't just ; it was a cold, metallic bite. Elias sat at his kitchen table, eating from a box labeled
"The details," he said, gesturing to the smooth, featureless walls. "The scratches on the floor. The logos on the milk carton. The names of the streets. Everything here is just... a category." The sky over the city was a flat, unrendered gray