this started as a contest, and evolved into a collection of mostly poetry |
Sixth Challenge: September 14: *Challenge is to write about a person experiencing a war 100 years into the future* David, id number three-five-oh-dash-seven, pressed his face against the cool glass separating habitat sixty four from the war zone in habitat sixty three. As soon as he was old enough he would join the other men in the battle against those who wanted to be rid of the habitats. For nearly sixty years, the world population had been contained in the one hundred glass habitats created by the military for the purest and safest environments. These were necessary after the nuclear war that wiped out the majority of the population, so that the few survivors could live without fear of their future generations growing gills or sprouting extra limbs from radiation. It was a time when all walks of life joined together under one leader, agreeing to segregate themselves by age into the most appropriate habitats. Each habitat had specific requirements for it’s occupants, suited to them and their basic needs. Habitat sixty four was created four young adults from ages fifteen to twenty. The occupants lived in apartment buildings similar to what used to be referred to as college dorms each with one roommate. Everything was carried out in a strict militaristic manner; like clockwork people of all habitats rose to go through the same motions of living day in and day out. Activities varied according to habitats, most of the children’s habitats were centered around education, the war zone in habitat sixty three was reserved for the men fighting in the first war of the habitats. Recently, a group of men from habitat seventy eight began making waves by suggesting it was time to venture back down to earth, pulling all one hundred habitats out of orbit. The things they said meant little to the younger ones, who had been raised, or perhaps even born in the habitats, but the older ones were causing trouble. All because they wanted to see their precious “earth” before they died. David was bored with habitat life, but never had an opportunity to compare it to life on earth, having been born in habitat three, which was a maternity ward for expecting mothers and mothers with their babies for six years after. Sure, it was possible to get permission (and visas) to visit other habitats, to visit family or for a change of scenery, but it was so time consuming. All the young ones of habitat sixty four lined up, watching eagerly the war scenes unfolding just on the other side of the protective glass. Some twenty or so people, and such was the picture they made, that the fighters sometimes would stop to wave. Often, there was no pleasure in watching the small troops of rebels get blown to bits by the actual military, but this was the only excitement available to ease the boredom of habitat sixty four. The gory scenes unfolded blood staining the artificial landscaping, hardening the hearts of the young ones. Perhaps no one would ever venture back to earth. It was full of poison anyway. Skye ~*resident campfire queen*~ :{!}: !!! !!! (.!!!./) |