As the morning aroma of the ocean creeps up against my nose, I begin to regain consciousness from the forced sleep and lay between my warm sheets and the humming death that echoes within the walls of my house. It’s finally morning and I no longer have to remain as if I were dead, to please the government with the fact that I had reached the mandatory hours of sleep. I bring the display of my watch close to my face to get a clear view of the time.
5:15AM, Thursday, March 29, 2179.
“What is the news for today?” I softly command to the voice in my watch.
I wait for the system to give me a response.
Beep, beep, “Today’s news goes as the following. 1) The first day of summer has just welcomed itself to the coast of Honolulu. Don’t be hesitant to go for a stroll, or a swim in the blue waters because temperatures will be remaining in the ‘safe zone’ until 12PM today. 2) Global warming is not looking to slowing down anytime soon. The government has released a statement declaring that it has now implemented its ninth plan within the last decade to halt the rate of damage done to our planet. 3) And lastly, do not—and I repeat, do not forget your protective suits and life masks when leaving your residence. It is against the law to do so, and any citizen caught breaking protocol will be faced with consequences…”
I get up from my bed and bring my blabbering watch to a halt, but the soothing silence of the room is once again interrupted, this time by the huffing and puffing of the house. It’s almost as if the house is a living creature, breathing to stay alive or—in this case, to release large amounts of carbon monoxide that can sometimes over empower the oxygen levels in my house.
The sunlight begins to crawl from the mountains beyond, and peeks into the room. I hastily grab my protective glasses before the sun can do any damage to my sight. As I walk towards the porch and open the door to go outside, the haze in the atmosphere stays untouched. I spot yellow figures in the distance riding their surfboards and decide to do the same way. I grab my yellow acid-proof suit to cover my entire body and my surfboard before opening the door to the screaming system in my glasses, begging me to wear my mask as the oxygen levels deplete.
By Navjeet Badyal