Recycling

Once, grandmother told me of something called “sea”. She couldn’t really describe how so much water could ever exist. How there could be storms raising waves that could swallow a man.

Water, more than our rations, more than what was “wasted” for the high-priestess’ pool., even more than those leagues upon leagues of sand-dunes outside.

Water, merging with sky.

Talking water is heresy and of course she was recycled giving us food for a week, but I still miss my crazed old grandmother and her fairy-tales.

I should never have told her stories to Milford… the rat.

So I saw a dome and a desert outside and thought of those experiments of living inside a dome and be self-sustained. Maybe even losing the contact with the outside world over generations.

Friday Fictioneers gives us an opportunity to tell a story in 100 words to the same picture. Rochelle gives us the picture and inspires us with her own fantastic storytelling.

Visit her or click at the frog eating frog below.

45 responses to “Recycling

  1. The society sequestered to the extent that the outside world has fallen into myth is an interesting twist on the biodome direction in which a few of us went.

    This also reminded me of Dune and Soilent Green. “Soilent Green is (SPOILER!!!)”

  2. The narrator may have dodged the bullet by protesting that he hadn’t been able to stop Grandma talking. But he’ll be for the chop when the authorities find his diary…grim story, Bjorn. It’s interesting how many dystopian stories there are this week.

  3. Loved your twist on a dystopian future, Bjorn, the disturbingly matter of fact way your protagonist talks about eating his recycled nan. Chilling but well written

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