Megan Weidle
Stories (1/0)
The Blaze
The first generation after the Blaze had more life skills than a boy scout with all his badges. Their geographical knowledge put Google Maps to shame. They could give you turn by turn directions on how to get from the sunny beaches of Siberia to the tundra of India or from the snow covered Morocco to the prairies in Hong Kong. Everyone living spoke seven languages with perfected fluency, but there was one word they didn't know in any language: drought. The children had no knowledge of the world their parents lived in or of the event that killed ninety-five percent of humanity. They had not a single clue as to what happened during the decade rain didn't come. None of the survivors could ever bring themselves to relive and envision the smell of the burnt terrain or the stench of faceless bodies decomposing on dry land, or about how every single day they learned of another death and another uncontainable fire.
By Megan Weidle3 years ago in Fiction