Future Visions

            It was a scorching day out. The sun searing the arid landscape as it reached its peak in the sky. Barren acres of trees surrounded a lonely house. The house was a small little white cottage, surrounded by a white picket fence. At a distance it looked right out of a fairytale. However at a closer look, you could see it was in disrepair. The paint had long begun to chip, and flake, leaving a small layer on the ground surrounding the whole house. The nails in the fence had long since rusted staining the paint around them.

Sunlight streaked into a small living room through a slightly open curtain, lighting up the specks of dust drifting through the stale air. The room was furnished with a small green loveseat, a creaky rocking chair, and an oval coffee table, all sitting on a faded persian rug. As the sun shifted the ray of sunlight slowly crept onto Greg’s face, awakening him. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, slowly focusing on the room. Stretching his arms he got up and began his day, as he always had. Slowly trudging his way into the kitchen, he looked at the remaining cans, and mason jars in the cupboards. Eventually selecting a can of baked beans, and opening it. Beans in hand he walked out onto the back porch to a small stone well, peering down, he frowned seeing only an inch or so of water. He lowered a small bucket, and pulled it back up with a bit of water, and took a drink out of the bucket. Sitting on the edge of the well he gazed up at two wooden crosses sticking out of the ground at the top of the hill.

It had been 3 years since his grandparents had passed away. They had always told him stories at bedtime about his parents, and the city where they had lived. These stories, of course, were from back before global warming had increased the global temperature by over 25 degrees. This had destroyed most of the planets ecosystems, leaving hot, barren, dusty plains around most of the world. The majority of water was now trapped far beneath the earth’s surface, making much of the world uninhabitable. His grandparents had seen the signs, as the seasons begun to get warmer, and warmer every year. They decided to prepare for the worst, and moved away from everything. His grandparents had built this house, and planted the surrounding orchards. Unfortunately as the temperature increased the orchards had died a few years ago.

It had been a year and a half since it had last rained, and the well was slowly drying up day by day.

The next day, Greg got up and started his routine as usual. He slowly wandered to the well, still half asleep, and lowered the bucket down. To his surprise as the bucket hit the bottom, he heard a small dry thud. Looking to find it completely dry. Parched as he was most of the time, he went back inside to look for something to drink. Staring blankly at the cans, and mason jars of pickled vegetables. He chose a can of pinto beans, opened it up drinking the liquid inside. It wasn’t as terrible he imagined, but he didn’t want to have any more of it than he needed.

As dawn broke the next day, Greg got up, and put on his grandfather’s old canvas backpack and set off towards the north. Stopping at the top of the hill to say goodbye to his grandparents, and continuing on.