I peek through the safety-glass window, a few drops of champagne still remaining in my glass; it’s probably the last few drops of the world; we have good reasons to celebrate though. Yet another source of fossil fuel had been found. And costs are reasonable without Antarctic ice.
The hollow eyes of men outside confuse me though. Why stay outside in the sweltering heat? It’s dangerous; all rational thinking and appreciation of progress seem to dissipate in an oxygen deprived atmosphere.
Good they cannot vote any longer. It’s wiser to leave the power to us. Climate change is just humbug.
I imagined this to be a party at the Exxon office, and having written dystopia a lot lately, I seem to be in that mood. Writing this from a first person perspective was hard to do..
Friday Fictioneers is a blogging community that every week seems to attract around 100 stories, under the executive leadership of CEO Rochelle Wissoff-Fields. Even if you don’t intend to write yourself take a stroll around the weekly contributions from many talented artists and writers.
February 18, 2015