2065
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2065
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About this listen
Professor Zaida Abdullah hates the smell of the blue chemical gel that now fills the carriage. It smells like petroleum. And she hates the way it feels on her wrinkled skin, more like burning than cooling. But she slaps it on anyway and watches her body temperature dip slightly on her wrist monitor. She leaves a voice note for her faculty secretary to let the students know she’ll be late for lecture.
This story is read by Brendon Fernandez.
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