The artificial sun rose like any other day, but today it was colder than any other. The true winter was finally here, stiff wind rose from the east giving shivers to the men who left for work. But even with all that adverse situation, they still have to work and that two just when the sun rose. Even if they were not slaves literally, they were slaves metaphorically. Slaves of the system.
Even though the sun was not real, it was the only consolation they got, and it did not matter how gorgeous or beautifully it painted the world. After all, there was nothing beautiful about the place and even if there was, they were too weary and tired to look at it. All that mattered was how bright the sun was, how much warmth it could bring to them.
