Joe Ruth woke up on a Monday, a bit hungover from the drinking of last night - a special occasion, an annual anniversary with his husband. Ruth twists and turns inside his own blanket for a few good minutes before his body and mind demands him to properly wake. With heavy eyelids and a throbbing head, Ruth steps outside of his bed and looks around the bedroom. It’s a roomy space, enough for a bed, single tv, bookshelf, and wardrobe (plus a few other knick-knacks here and there). Steve has an early work schedule, much earlier than his. Ruth starts his day at eight while his husband has to get up at the dusk of five for his logging job. Ruth’s stomach gurgles, a series of internal sounds that he can only hear, demanding food. Before he could even get to thinking about cooking or not, Joe has to release waste from his body first. Once relieved, hands and face washed, Ruth heads out to his living room and then onwards to the kitchen - where the stink is and where he would get his first drink of the day from. Next up is getting dressed properly for his work, which he was running a bit late on. A set of denim boilersuit, a pair of heavy duty work boots and gloves, a half-respirator, and a hard helmet, is the get-up as per regulation for the concerns of a maintenance factory-worker in a prefab factory.

Joe Ruth normally avoids the kitchen since he barely cooks for himself, but his husband does all the cooking in the relationship. Sadly, given Steve’s need to wake early and get to work fast, he can’t cook in the morning for Joe. Lucky for Ruth, he does not need to worry about cooking for himself, since all work-facilities have good ol’ dineries nearby or directly inside the work-place. All menu items are also all free, which is very nice. Joe’s work is not too far either with his factory only a few minutes walk from his current apartment. The man opens his door and finds himself in the apartment hallway, a tight corridor with a blue titleset. He heads towards the elevator, entering it as the door opens, and exiting it after he arrives at the ground level. He passess throught the main lobby and onto the stone pavement of the outside. The small stroll afforded to Joe everyday allowed him to think on a few things before his mental focus had to shift to his maintenance work. 

It's only been a few months but everything seems to be going so fast. A few months ago, Joe Ruth was living in a hellhole known as the New York metro in the aftermath of a nuclear war - where the threat of food shortages, bandits, lack of medical supply, and much much more was very common and a part of reality. Now it is very different. He has fresh air to breathe, instead of that good ol’ New York underground smell of dead rats and god knows what else. No more cramped spaces, since there is actually an outside, one without the danger of nuclear winter. Food is not much else of an issue now, although there is news of light rationing coming as the Department of Agriculture has published its findings on the current challenges facing the various farm-collectives, and ther-

*BANG*

“There it is,” Joe Ruth whispered to himself. Those active construction sites can be pretty damn loud from time to time, never minding the constant noise that emits from their building. Lincoln has sure come a long way from what it is now. What was a big ol’ cruise ship is now a sprawling urban city bearing the name of the 16th U.S. President. There is no other place like Lincoln since there is no other urban city but Lincoln so far, but there should be future plans for more cities as the population grows, Ruth thinks to himself. 

“Enjoying your walk?” a man said to Ruth, evidently his co-worker John Lewis, or just Lewis. 

“Oh hey Lewis. I am. You?” Ruth responds as the two men start to walk side by side, eganing in friendly talk. 

“I would, but my leg is killing me. I can’t even get painkillers yet.” Lewis complained, walking in somewhat of a restricted manner because of it. 

“Factory number six, the pharmaceutical one, right? I heard that the production conductor has a real pole up his ass, and didn't follow proper regulation for the piping. Now the factory is undergoing some heavy repairs.” Ruth noted as Lewis carefully listened. 

“A relative of mine that works there told me that the emergency meeting was short. The old conductor was voted out as quickly as he went in. The workers elected a new lad named Clarke. Let’s hope that this Clarke guy does better or else the workers will have to get a new conductor in.” Lewis said as the two men get closer to their designation. 

“I hope you feel better, Lewis. What are you going to get at the diner today?” Ruth wonders since Lewis normally orders sometime new everyday. 

“Ah, I'm gonna eat all the soy-meat that I can. Have you read the new edition of Lincoln Post yet? Lincoln’s railways are getting quite the attention from those magical beasts. They keep delaying iron shipments to our integrated steel mills here, from number one to three. The tractor factories are not producing enough spare parts and the collective farms are not getting their spares for their tractors.” Lewis pauses for a bit before continuing. 

“Now the Lincoln Municipal has to stop the production of meat because soybeans are lower on the list of priorities.” Lewis finishes. 

“Quite the detailed reader as you are. I’ll get caught up with the news after tonight, hopefully. Say, you still plan to get that new computer after you reach your work-hours to get it?” Ruth inquired. 

“I do. It should be at the end of next week, if the electronic center still has them in stock. But I don’t think they’ll be in stock since all the hardware is being directed towards the refurbishing of that fusion plant back in the Autumn.” Lewis noted. 

“Hhm. Come on, we’ll talk some more in the diner,” Ruth pointed out as the two men quickly turn the corner and then walk a few more steps to get into their work-place - navigating to the diner located in their factory.