As the sun was setting I happened to think about various dystopian elements that I had come across in recent years, I had written them down just in case I came up with some idea for a story or art maybe.

In this particular place,

where I am stripped from convenience,

all these representations of a society that has lost itself in its own comfort seemed surreal.

And so the will to talk to a friend came about. The first did not pick up. Neither did the second. Or the third. I tried dad, no luck. Beep, beep, beep, beep.

A few more was knocked on by humorous tones of despair,

but the doors remained shut, away from telemarketers.

I had become that,

a salesman in the desert.