"Would you like to buy the newer version, sir? Sir?"
"Newer version?" The young man swivelled around, only to find the exasperated, monotone face of the cashier, the only ounce of positivity to be seen being her sunny yellow name badge that decorated a plain white polo shirt.
"Yes," She replied surly, "it has an all new Vocal system, a user-friendly interaction set, and uses hyper-realism technology to create the most realistic looking robot Virtutech has ever created. Rated 4.5 stars in performance, ergonomics, and quality,"
"How much?"
"£359.99,"
"Really? That cheap?"
"It's currently on offer,"
"Oh. Might as well, then," He swiped his card, only waiting for the telltale beep of the checkout before anxiously speed walking away from the till.
He continued rushing about as a busybody would do, pushing and shoving his way past the crowds. It certainly was a busy day. His sky blue eyes flitted about, the flecks of lime green within reflecting the ever-changing world around him. The buzz and racket of the lively masses filled his ears, and vividly blurred colours sped past the corners of eyes. But none of that concerned him. Not now; he had things to do, people to see and places to go.
Ah, yes. Another day in the bustling city of London, with its winding concrete twists and endless cobble turns, a splotch of red here and a splatter of black there. The rhythmic song of camera shutters rung in the air as eager tourists gazed on, wide-eyed, at London's treasures, mouths agape as if these buildings were their first. The rather loud commotion of the traffic filled the young man's ears, however, this hubbub was not foreign to Mark; as a matter of fact, he had become so accustomed to it that it was almost pleasant to him.
Almost.
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Warning! I'm still editing it, which is why it seems incomplete. My sincere apologies.
