Dome

He stares down at the dome. It's small but bright inside. He has to keep the blinds closed or the polished surface hurts his eyes.
He shuffles a few metres over and turns the airconditioner on.
Inside the dome they discovered fire a week ago. They've just figured out how to use it to make the trains run on time. Soon the trains will carry heavy equipment to the interior edges so they can dig into the table and find more things to burn.
He fiddles idly with the dials and switches on the console. Time inside the dome speeds to a blur as he wrenches his wrist to the right. He's terribly bored.
When he's tired of watching the speed lines - they remind him of the comic books he read as a child - he brings his wrist all the way to the left, and time stands still.
There's a tiny man in a silver suit hovering against the underside of the glass, attached by a thin cord to a boxy craft. The little man can't see out and never will.
He likes stopping time inside the dome. That way he can look at everything for as long as he wants. There's always someone kissing somewhere, and he can pretend that those sort of things last forever. He doesn't like to look at the people who have just died, but he imagines that those who are dying can feel their last breath being stretched out forever.
He's not supposed to get involved with the little people inside the dome. His boss says. His boss is rude and smells like the inside of an old cupboard. His boss takes an extra 20 minutes for lunch every day.
Time is still missing inside the dome. Everything is still. He opens up a door in the top and reaches inside.
He helps people. He tells them its a nice thing to do. That it won't hurt anything. He moves some objects around and pulls a boat out of the water, carefully moving it closer to the shore before putting it down.
The still little people don't notice.
He sees a scientist, just like him, working on a chalkboard. He picks up the board and looks at the work. He pulls out some tweezers and chalk and makes a few corrections.
He closes the dome again, turns on the projector that makes the inside look like stars, and turns the dial back to the middle.
Time rushes back to the dome, and he watches people swim to shore before they drown. He watches the scientist dance by himself. He watches kisses end.
He scribbles into a little notepad and turns off the airconditioner.
Putting his breather on he opens the door and steps out into the arid air, tripping on a piece of crumbled concrete as he does so.
The counter at his belt starts ticking and screeching. He should hurry home quickly. He still has a lot of work to do. He has to write a report about the world in the dome. They've almost caught up to us. Soon they're be ready to lead by example.
On his way home he passes a homeless man whose mask has fallen off in his drunken sleep. Blotches are forming on his skin. He doesn't like to look at that.