I was herded, along with many others, to the booths. The herders were soldiers. They wear berets marking their button flairs. All blue, it would seem. But of course, after the great button disaster anybody who isn't blue isn't human. We're second - no, third class citizens. Nobody is more hated than a purple.

We reach the booth, the man inside tells me in an impatient tone to hold out my hand. I do so, unfurling my fist to display a small purple circle about the size of a penny in the center of my palm. He runs an electronic device over my hand, something similar to a barcode scanner. He spits at me. "Purple scum into the left lane, you'll be dealt with appropriately." this worried me more than anything I could put into words... dealt with appropriately I remembered my history lessons in school, it was like the Nazi labor camps all over again.

I wiped the spit from my face and stumbled into the left lane, stopping for a moment to look behind him. There was some kind of commotion. A man was arguing with the soldier in the booth. I could see from here the dot on his hand - it was blue. "But I have a blue flair, I'm like you!" he spoke in a wavering voice. "Then submit to the checks, it could be easy to fake your flair." The man was protesting in a high pitched squeak of a voice. After some time of watching it unfold I was pushed along by some of the soldiers for loitering. I heard the shot and the screams but did not look back. That was the fate of the purple underlings who did not comply now.

The ones who didn't push the button, the greys, they were royalty now. They pushed all the buttons now. Sometimes when I'm allowed my time to walk around the fenced off grounds of the camp I wonder how it came to this. How a simple button on a stupid website could tear humanity away from each other more drastically than any conflict in history.