Frank removed his neural synced hard hat. “It’s hopeless!”


    “Hey man, the regulations say never to remove that,” said Bob.


    “But Bob, will we ever clean it all up?”


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    “I dunno, man. I mean, first, they distributed those damn replicators everywhere with a promise of post-scarcity. But they didn’t plan on people always tossing so much away.”


    “Never-ending mounds …” Frank pointed to the horizon.


    “I know, man. Instead of stopping it all, they gave us these virtual hookups. I mean, when you experience paradise, who cares, right?”


    Frank put his hard hat back on and shrugged. “Sure, who cares?”