Paul paused in the doorway. Buzzing fluorescent lights harmonized with the hum in his head, too many years around lawn mowers and leaf blowers. His chest tightened as he realized his life was being reduced to a 12 x 12 unit. For the better part of sixty years odd jobs made ends meet, but with the new human labor ban his only option was to accept the Relocation Package and “get while the gettin’s good,” so he was told.
“What’s a man to do? Drones Only is law. Keep to yourself and there’ll be no trouble.”
So he was told.
You can check out more Friday Fictioneers here. Thanks to Amy and Rochelle for this week’s prompt.