I was told to blog, but I am not a blogger...

So, my publisher has been coaxing me to start writing a real blog in this area of my website ever since the book got published, but I have attempted to write a classic blog, and I am terrible at it! My story telling abilities in regard to slice-of-life affirmations and day-to-day noticings is garbage. So, I will not even attempt to post something as ghastly as that here. Instead, I will be posting small sections of a short story I am working on. I have no idea where this story is going, and I am unaware of how long it will be, but it has been tugging at my brain for awhile, and I thought this would be a nice outlet for it. Thank for your time, and here is the first installment of:

A World Covered in Plastic Bags Filled with Cat Poop.

    Akemi pulled his INuc out of the charging field and tucked it into his pocket. The sleek, black teardrop slid into the pinstriped pocket and rested reassuringly against Akemi’s muscular thigh.
The apartment door locked automatically as he made his way down the long hallway. A telepod was vacant at the odd travel hour of 1 o’clock in the morning, so he hoped in and was stepping into the main entryway of U.S. Corporate within three minutes.
U.S. Corporate never closed. All national level corporations were required to be twenty-four/seven/365 since the last nuclear upset in China Corporate’s main hub during Chinese New Year back in 2097. Akemi strides toward his office as his INeuc began to vibrate against his leg.
Tapping the nearly invisible black eardrop tucked into his ear socket Akemi said, “Burnhardt.”
“Tinibu.” The soft, husky voice of Akemi’s current number one gal, Launa, reverberates across his eardrum. “Why do you always leave so quietly?” He could hear the stretch in her voice, so he double tapped his eardrop to bring up a visual on the lounging Launa. “Ugh, I’m all sleepy eyed.” Was her response to having her image projected across the holographic screen that projected from Akemi’s eardorp and spread across his field of vision.
“I like you when you’re sleepy.” Akemi smiles at his view and says, “That’s why I’m so quiet when I leave. I like to watch you sleepy.”
“Thanks, creeper.” Launa rolls away from where her INuec rested on the bedside table so Akemi is met with an equally pleasing back view. “I’m up.” She declares without really following through. This will continue for about twenty more minutes, so Akemi taps back out of the hologram and enters his office. As head of the disarmament sector of the U.S. corporation, Akemi gets to keep any hours he likes. The world is in danger of erupting in nuclear induced chaos every second of the day, so as long as he spends eight hours of every twenty-four actively trying to save the Earth from complete annihilation, he gets his paycheck. They always know if he slacks off. Akemi has no idea how and he is comfortable in that ignorance, and he likes trying to save the world everyday. Women love disarmament men, and he never has to pay for drinks. Everyone thinks that if they are nice to the dis-agents the likelihood of their neighborhood exploding because some asshole had a problem with the way his lawn was mowed lowers. Really, there is no certainty about anything Akemi and his team did. 
*End Part 1*
-R. T. Kilgore