SterileNeutrino
Alex Christoforou
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Comments by "SterileNeutrino" (@SterileNeutrino) on "UK floats mean retweets penalty. Tulsi under flight surveillance. Kursk incursion leverage/debacle" video.
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from entering along with him.
The hallway smelt of stale curry and old rag mats. At one end of it a coloured poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall. It depicted simply an enormous face, more than a metre wide: the face of an indian man of about forty-five, clean-shaven and with ruggedly handsome features. Winston made for the stairs. It was no use trying the lift. Even at the best of times it was seldom working, and at present the electric current was cut off during daylight hours. Coal-powered stations had been shut down and the handful of new nuclear reactors the governemnt had promised were still a decade away. In preparation for Hate Week, free copies of the Daily Mail had been distributed, and a pile was sitting in the corner. "RUSSIA THREATENS..." the front page blared. Winston didn't bother to check the rest of the title.
He was lucky. New immigrants had arrived recently, and the lower two floors had been requisitioned, the pensioner tenants moved to northern tent cities. His flat was seven flights up, and Winston, who was thirty-nine and had a growing rogue protein blockage due to anti-biowarfare injections in his right ankle, went slowly, resting several times on the way. Medication kept the clot at bay for now, but prices were high and going up, soon he wouldn't be able to afford them. On each landing, opposite the lift-shaft, the poster with the enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one of those pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. PRIME MANAGER IS WATCHING OUT FOR YOU, the caption beneath it ran.
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