Short Story

02h23m She woke up … Sweating… the ceiling fan was dead and the neon from the noodle shop across the alley kept the room in a constant state of artificial twilight, it was exhausting. Rane was pretty sure the only reason why the streets now looked like those futuristic movies was because everyone thought it would be a good idea to actually make them in real life. She sat on the edge of her bed, the frame making noises under her weight as she sat closer to the edge. Part routine part itch, she ran a finger down the back of her neck, that tiny ridge where the skin met the cold seam of the spine mod. It didn’t hurt, not anymore, but there was always that feeling of an itch in the morning. ...

John looked up, the sun was high and bright, scorching really, if not for the contrast of the snow and ice covering the ground in every visible direction as he looked down again. Up on the top of the trees some of the ice would always melt a bit, but never too much, as it was still quite cold. He often wondered how cold it was but with nothing to check he’d settled on Too-F-Cold ºC. ...