Future shock is the shattering stress and disorientation that we

Host: The city was a machine that never slept — a maze of glass, light, and noise, breathing like something alive. Billboards flashed faces that changed every second, cars hummed like electric bees, and drones zigzagged between towers, carrying the rhythm of tomorrow on their wings. It was night, but the sky glowed white from the overabundance of invention.

Jack stood beneath a flickering streetlight, his hands buried in the pockets of a charcoal coat. His grey eyes were fixed on the skyline — the sharp, neon geometry of progress. He looked like a man both awestruck and exhausted, as if he’d seen too many worlds rise and fall in a single lifetime.

Jeeny approached, the click of her heels almost lost in the roar of traffic. She carried a tablet pressed to her chest, its screen pulsing with unread notifications. Her face glowed faintly in the digital light — soft, determined, but tired in a way only those raised in acceleration could be.

The air buzzed with invisible signals — a web of connection that felt more like a net.

Jeeny: “Alvin Toffler wrote, ‘Future shock is the shattering stress and disorientation that we induce in individuals by subjecting them to too much change in too short a time.’”

Jack: Smirking faintly. “He wrote that fifty years ago. Guess he didn’t know just how bad it could get.”

Host: His voice was low, husky, carrying both irony and fatigue. The light from the nearest billboard flashed across his face — one second red, one second blue, as if time itself couldn’t make up its mind.

Jeeny: “Maybe