Drawing back her beige covers Nina steps onto an equally beige rug. “What is my agenda today, служащий?”, her feet slip into beige slippers, and from the corner of the room, her beige wood closet opens to present today’s outfit. “As a part of your course on the Motherland’s history, your year 12 class will visit the Modern Museum for Technical Excellence in Moscow,” the computerized voice of a school teacher responded. Nina bobbed her head to the light piano tune she’d grown accustomed to hearing each morning, dressing in her beige slacks and smart button-down shirt, under a beige sweater, and listening to the hourly schedule laid out by служащий.
The LED screen abreast her front wall ran a countdown until the school bus arrived at her door, the bottom scrawled headlines from the State Report, the Soviet daily news, updated by the minute far off in the Kremlin. Notifications from her online chats flitted by.
“Breakfast has been delivered!”, служащий alerted. Nina gathered her issued student tablet and identification card and deposited them in her beige leather school bag before hurrying out of her room.