Designs of our Slave Race chapter 1

Chapter 1

Where do I start this for you all? In all honestly I am not too sure. I guess I'll start at the beginning, the only place I can, though the beginning seems not so much as it is now. No, I'll start with the beginning of the end.

It would be an overcast, but warm, July summer day when I walked into the overly air-conditioned office building at Insigna Corp, a company high in the IT and Engineering field. Man that office was cold, but I can't remember a time when industry cared about the environment, so I wouldn't dwell on it any further. Walking up towards the busy elevator, crowded with fellow colleagues of various departments, recognizing Philip and David, two of the obnoxious men that were in the engineering department of the company. I only saw the men at meetings though, for I wasn't in engineering but IT.

I grabbed my arms and shivered through my burgundy cotton shirt and black polyester slacks, all business attire naturally, feeling myself wriggling in black leather loafers with matching soaks, oh how I love my fashion sense. Course I wasn't hired for that, but for my abilities as a programmer. Graduating on the Dean's list with co-op experience I was quite competent in my skills in typing code like a monkey, but just doing that isn't enough: now one must also be creative in how that is deployed and designed. That note have nuked many of an old friend out of the college.