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I tell stories
100 words, or sometimes more

An Individual Like Everyone Else

On Jimmy’s 16th birthday, he was taken to the Type Machine.

“I don’t want to do this.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” said his father, puffing on his pipe. “You’re a big lad, you’ll probably be a Jock. Jocks get Cheerleaders.”

Jimmy looked at the ‘Who Will You Be?’ pamphlet. “But none of these fit. I like science and football.”

“I know, son. That’s why you need a Type. To stop nonsense like that.”

The scientist adjusted his black-rimmed glasses. “The Machine has finished analysing your tests. You can go in now.”

Jimmy entered the metal room, wondering who would come out.

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