The Writer's Cafe discussion

Author's note: a dystopian short story about life in what the main character deems "a perfect city".
Warning: some disturbing themes and implications, recommended for ages 13 and up .

I live in a perfect city. I live in a place where there’s no suffering, nor poverty, nor hunger, nor sickness, nor grief. I live in a place perpetually bathed in golden light, shrouded in careless joy, where revelries go on from dusk until dawn, where nobody has to go through life alone.
I have a perfect life. I have a wonderful wife, a perfect match, which the Council found for me. I have two beautiful, healthy children, as blond as their mother and as dark-eyed as I am.
I live in a spacious house, the only red house in a block of colorful, spacious houses, in a city of colorful, spacious houses, each one almost identical to the next. Here there are no class differences, there are no slums, and all men are equal.
What does it matter that when I walk the streets of my perfect city there’s a steel dome over my head and I’ve never seen the sky or felt the rain on my skin? Rain is a danger and the sky could never compete with the perfection of the city.
What does it matter that I still keep an ancient vial of sand in my nightstand, that sometimes I open it and smell the salty scent of the sea, and I imagine the heroes of my childhood stories, wind blowing through their hair, standing dauntlessly on the front of a ship, droplets of water hitting their faces and stinging their eyes? What does it matter that I shall never see the sea, never stand with my hands on the wooden wheel and an heavy pistol tucked against my side? There are no pistols or arms of any kind in my city, and because of that there hasn’t been a murder in decades, and adventuring, I know, is not nearly as glamorous as the stories make it sound. It’s pain and fire and hunger and sickness and grime and death. Why would I want to leave my perfect city behind, the one that promises such easy happiness, in foolish pursue of a childhood dream?
What does it matter that I can’t leave? Why would I want to leave? I live in the perfect city, after all.
What does it matter that the Council is judge, jury and attorney? What does it matter that every word I say and every thing I do are monitored? The Council’s only goal is to protect our city. It’s only fair that they execute the terrorists who try and disrupt our peace. The ones who are seeking to destroy us, to bring to the outer world news of our society, the ones who want to bring foreign armies here, to lead them to our small sanctuary, and the strangers would come with their guns and their bombs and set fire to our city, until all that’s left are our scattered ashes.
I am young, and healthy and handsome and strong, and I know I’ll always be, because the Council’s mercy will ensure I’ll never have to suffer from old age. A pinprick of pain when my body and mind start to decline, and then nothing more. Like falling asleep. My mother didn’t understand. She didn’t see what a wondrous gift we are given and she fought when they came to take her away, kicked and screamed and held on to the railing of her house and the agents had to restrain her and force her into the car.
I can remember the scene, but blurrily, as though I saw it through a waterfall, and my mother’s face only comes to my mind if I make an effort, though hardly a month has passed since her death. Another mercy the Council grants the inhabitants of the city: so that we may never be plagued by grief and loss, when we lose someone, our memories of them are taken away, one by one, until only the barest shadow of recognition is left behind.
Of my brother, who fell violently ill years ago and was put down to spare him his suffering, I can scarcely remember the name.
What does it matter that I have never known passion, that no strong emotion has ever shaken my body? Passion leaves the soul wrecked and the body weakened. I am safe here. I was assigned a biologically compatible companion, and that’s exactly who my wife is. My companion, and that companionship is as pleasurable as any passionate love story my mind could ever conjure. Even more so, because I know I won’t be hurt.
What does it matter that my sister dreamt of a girl with golden hair before getting married, that she tried to ran away the night before her wedding and was caught, that there was a constellation of bruises on her shoulders when she walked down the aisle the next day, and that her grey eyes were shuttered and her hands trembled? The Council knows what’s best for her, for each and every one of us, and she saw the truth soon enough, as she held her first child in her arms, her husband’s head resting against her shoulder.
The city I live in is the perfect city, and here there’s no suffering, nor poverty, nor hunger. Sickness and grief aren’t allowed to take hold of us. I live in a place forever bathed in golden light, where there’s no sky, where revelries go on from dusk until dawn, where everybody is assigned a companion with whom they have to spend their lives. I live in a place where I am protected from everything that could ever harm me, even from my own desires and passions.
I live in a perfect city, thanks to the wisdom of the Council. I have a wife they found for me. We have two children. I am perfectly happy.
What does it matter?

Wow... that was amazing. If you lengthened that into a book I would totally read it :)

Mmmmmm. I will be interested to what comes next! Looks great so far.

Ariane *Call me Sparrow* wrote: "Wow... that was amazing. If you lengthened that into a book I would totally read it :)"

Thank you :)!!!! I'm really glad you liked it!

Sophia wrote: "Mmmmmm. I will be interested to what comes next! Looks great so far."

Thanks :D for now I'm leaving this as a short story, but I might get some plot bunnies and lengthen it :)

Mmmmm. Let's hope those plot bunnies come soon! You could use some carrots as bait :)

Yes that's a good idea :) *waves carrots around* come here bunnies! Bunnies bunnies bunnies!

*cups hand to ear*
I can hear their thundering feet. I guess they like carrots.

Continue it!!!!!! It'd be great!!!! I want to know what happens!!!!! :D

Wow! That's a great beginning. And yes, if there was more I would absolutely, totally read it.

Very interesting. This would make a great prologue.