The sky was gray that morning, drizzling rain fell on Billy’s freshly shaved head. He hovered over his McDonald’s Big Breakfast platter, trying to block the rain from drenching his pancake and diluting the syrup, which was the only small pleasure an unhealthy like him could get. He tried to cover the small plastic container that housed the syrup, only to read that it was imported from Bangladesh, manufactured in a lab with synthetic sugars. Billy shook his head for a moment, only to stop before doing untold damage to his pancake.
Recently purchased "Automaton", looking forward to reading your novel during the next few months.
Love
Nice work. Canadian dystopia is my favorite genre of nonfic