#hartly

     Age twenty-seven was when the doctor joined the foundation. Twenty-seven. A world unlike any other had been opened up to him even before crossing automatic steel doors to the base that he would be working under as a young researcher for the good of mankind. This was a story for another time, however. At the time being the, now twenty-eight-year-old man shuffled the files within his half-awake grasp as he settled into the observation chamber. It was about dawn, or so he thought, and this was his last job before finally ending his long shift of typing, sorting, and basic examinations of safe-classed object anomalies.

    Once the ‘world-changing’ factor had set in, Dr. Samuel Doctuur had discovered that it was the long, tiring shifts that were the biggest obstacles, much like school and any other normal workplace though keeping his complaints quiet much like everything else. The young researcher was never big on talking, and really only spoke when addressed or if he needed to get his own point across in a conversation or review. He was still young, new blood within the collective of those who had both age and experience of the ‘unnatural’ world that somehow fell within that of normal society. Some of the senior staff looked just as exhausted as he did while others went through their day with much more vigor than he felt he could possibly muster. He envied those doctors.