[ WP ] A story set 100+ years in the past of a man writing a dystopian novel , but the dystopia he writes about is identical to the world we live in today .

`` Freedom is proclaimed by one's self, not a privilege or an earned right. It is n't munificently handed upon you by some greater power. there is no formidable, great power, the greater power is inside all of us.'' 
 
 These were the first lines in Arnold James Prestly's novel. He sat at his mahogany desk, surrounded by the aroma of musk and distilled alcohol. 
 
 Arnold was a dirty, indecent man by appearance, almost vulgar and filthy, though, inside him was a magnificent mind with infinitely potential. Underneath his foul, grease begotten stands of dark brown hair and above is, what used to be green, grayish weary eyes was a door. Imagine a large red door with the paint faintly chipping and an age-ly, rusted, golden doorknob, that creaks upon opening. This door, metaphorically of course, sat upon the middle of Arnold's forehead. A magical door that led nowhere, but infinity. An infinity full of controversy and imploring questions that no one in his time had even the ability to comprehend. That is why Arnold's novel, though he lived in the most culturally advanced and populated city of his area, only sold 14 copies ( 4 of which were returned with an ignorant disgust at what he had created ). 
 
 As I was saying, Arnold sat at his desk, head in hands, fingers intertwined with shiny, though pungent hair. His brain was beating louder than his heart, resembling the bass drums of early native american rituals. BUM... BUM... BUM. He felt the pounding of his head in his fingertips. He looks up from his painful positioning and stares intently at what he had written. 
 `` I knew they were n't ready. Those fools, this literature is n't fantasy, its prophecy!'' he shouts aloud in his empty office, then taking a hefty gulp of home brewed Absinthe. 
 Arnold opens his book once more to read it ( this being the 76th time since its self-publication ). 
 ``'CHANGE AND HOPE, STAINED AND BROKE' Written by: Arnold James Prestly'' he reads aloud, for the 77th time. 
 
 A slight murmur comes from the door of his office, but Arnold ignores it, assuming they're just auditory hallucinations caused by his Absinthe. The knocking continued, getting louder once his mind gave notice and he decides to satisfy his curiousity. `` Come in!'' he announced. 
 
 In walks a luxurious child, consisting of a well-to-do appearance, looking to be around 15 at most. 
 `` Hullo, sir. I heard some shouting while on the street, seeming to be coming from this office.'' the young boy said with a natural opulence in his voice. 
 Arnold sat looking through the boy, as if he had already forgotten there was anyone else in the room. The boy waited then once more said to this stranger of his acquaintance, `` What might that piece of written work be lying in front of you? Be it fictitious or nay? I do so love books of fiction...'' 
 Arnold took a moment to let the peculiarly queer situation sink in. 
 `` This, my boy, is a subsequently, succeeding fiction.'' 
 `` What exactly does that mean, if i may ask, sir?'' replied the young boy curiously. 
 Arnold took a deep breathe and asked if his youthful guest had much time. The boy nodded and sat down on the floor in front of Arnold's desk. 
 `` My name is Arnold James Prestly and what might yours be?'' Arnold politely requested. 
 `` Timothy'' 
 Arnold proceeded to inappropriately poor Timothy a glass of his Absinthe. `` I made this myself, but do n't tell your begetter of this, for it is alcoholic.'' 
 Timothy anxiously received the glass with a childish grin, then retreating back to a look of maturity. 
 `` The book, sir, please continue.'' 
 `` Well, in saying that it is a succeeding fiction, I mean that it is in fact not something that has ever occurred nor will most contemplate or for-see its occurrence. But this tale is very possible, I would even say likely, NAY. Unescapable.'' Arnold says profoundly. 
 Timothy sips his drink, then making a disgusted face, asks for Arnold to elaborate on this tale. 
 `` Being it 1911 as we sit here, the book takes place in the far future, more than a century away. The government-'' 
 `` Is great!'' Timothy interrupts with a smile. 
 `` Oh, my young friend. You do n't see what foreshadows mankind. In this future world, the government controls the people.'' 
 
 
 
 -- -- I'm too tired to write anything more, worth-reading at least. I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT! feedback is definitely welcome. -- --
