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Utopia 2067
A shaft of morning sunshine streamed through a gap in the curtains and crept across the bed until it found me and woke me from my slumbers. I stretched out and patted the duvet to see if I still had company.The smooth female voice of our Home Analysis System floated around the room.“Hello Murray, it is 6:30 on Wednesday the 30th of November, 2067; it is your national saint’s day, and all is well with the world. Kay left twenty-five minutes ago and my sensors report she is twelve minutes from...