SF Drabble #270 “Vivarium”

There’s nothing real about him. He comes, he does what needs to be done, and he leaves. Unfailingly polite, perfectly mannered, unquestionably competent. When he leaves, the television is repaired, back to streaming a jumbled mix of 50’s and 60’s sitcoms and talk shows and movies. His builders never come into the apartments. I’m not even certain what they even look like. The windows are one-way: to me they just show an unchanging landscape.

I wonder: if I live long enough, will the television start showing programs that Earth leaked into space in the 70’s, when I was a kid?

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