Nivyunsh looked around the house. It was big and pale green. If you lived inside a smooth, sickly algae, maybe that's what it would look like. He had come to meet Drehaji, a man who apparently could give people something that helped matters. He didn't know what he exactly needed help with or what Drehaji could give him - but it was apparently very important to the folks at home. Evertime his parents told him about this thing, they coughed blood and started crying. It must be important, except that Nivyush could not even remember the name of what that was.
Still he sat there with greasy thumb prints on an old tie. He had to get home to his colony in 30 minutes. This tie was borrowed from the drunken neighborhood tailor and it had to be returned soon.
Drehaji walked in and smiled at Nivyunsh.
"Hello."
Nivyush stood up and smiled. "Hello sir."
"So, you want a job?"
Nivyunsh blinked. He wanted what? Oh yes - a job. That's what his family was giving him grief about. They hadn't told him much about what it was exactly but apparently, it solved problems that he didn't know he had.
"Yes sir. I would like a...job. My parents think it will be good for me. But to be honest sir, I don't have an idea what a job is."
Drehaji looked unsurprised. People like Nivyunsh were born after the great Shaisman phenomenon. After the moon had melted, an entire generation had soaked in the molten lunacy. They seemed to have forgotten a lot of the things the collective had spent all their time accumulating. Concepts of job, legacy, steadiness...and interestingly fatigue.
"Will you travel to Dog?", Drehaji asked.
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