Bad Cog

100 words about a dystopian near future scenario where everybody is drugged just to make it through the day
FFfAW week 70 photo prompt (c) Nonnaci 

Fifteen minutes since I swallowed the breakfast pill and I’m still waiting for the comfort of its artificial blanket of docility to envelop me. When it comes, it does a shoddy job. How am I supposed to drift off when my feet are cold?

The drugs want to funnel me down the tunnel to alertness and obedience so I’ll do my job like a good cog. I resist. I need my dose upped but I won’t be eligible for ages. I could plead.

Or I could go with rebellion. Wean myself off. De-cog myself from the machine.

Terrifying, exhilarating idea.

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