Devyn Lofthouse
Bio
January Capricorn with a passion for creative writing.
Stories (1/0)
The Jaws of a Rodent
Fifteen years ago, when the very ground below us became blanketed with the thick, unbreathable smog, the only way we had left to go was up. The few who didn't manage to fall ill spent months attempting to build skyscrapers to salvage all that was left. They turned out to be mostly just skeletons of a sound structure, warped wooden platforms held together with metal beams and wooden planks hundreds of meters above the ground. Despite the distance, the fog is still smothering and grey, though my grandfather insists that it was much worse during his time below. When I was younger I used to pry for information about where the fog came from, but my grandfather would often just look askance and somehow avoid my questions. I still often find myself wondering how my mom could have possibly welcomed a child into a world full of wretched smog and swaying towers, but I'd never say that directly. I'm well aware that my family does all that they can for me, despite the circumstances.
By Devyn Lofthouse3 years ago in Fiction