It’s almost two in the morning. Unlike in the daylight, when the city buzzes with a productive vitality, the night feels edgier, borne of the knowledge that there are things we cannot see, cannot understand, things we choose to turn away from. Dark truths reveal themselves. Some people become fearful and hide from these truths, retreating to the safety of their homes. Others revel in it. They do things they would never do in the daylight. It is the time of secrets, whispers, things usually left unspoken suddenly bursting forth from our mouths and our hearts. In part, this is because if you stay up late enough, the placating influence of your MealPak can wear off. The euphoria and sense of fulfilment injected into your veal rounds, engineered into your rice, lightly dusted onto your soy glacé, fades as the hours bleed into morning. The contentment and happiness you feel during the day starts to wane. You start to ask questions. You wonder why you’ve been working the same job for ten years with no promotion and no raise.
