Oct 6, 2015

Das pulp fiction


Thick grey clouds pressed down on the deserted beach like a great pillow about to descend on a terminally ill patient. The waves were nervously rolling about and breaking down heaps of garbage floating in on the high tide. Scavengers would sometimes go trough the heaps of trash looking for something useful but despite decades of unchecked consumerist gluttony salvaging anything useful was a rare occurrence.

Rising sea levels had long made familiar features unrecognizable. [there should be a lot more here about the damn structures leading into the old city] The hollowed structures of the old city were too dangerous even for squatters now. He took a few more steps and then looked back to watch the foot prints fill with water before walking a little further. He would have to climb back soon, the tide was rising quicker now and he didn’t want to be left scrambling on the rocks.

Ari’s voice was coming in clear in his ear. He had ignored the persistent notification in his lower left filed of view for more than 10 minutes, but it was clear now somebody thought this was important.

‘Where are you? Have you read the note I sent you?’ - she sounded a little impatient. ‘No, what’s going on? I’m just on my way back from checking out the old city perimeter.’ ‘I know, that’s why I’m calling. One the patrol units… reported suspicious activity.’ She hesitated and this peaked his interest - this was unusual.