Journey
Copyright© 2015 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 17
Twenty nine years ... it's not long ... it's forever.
2210 rolled around and nothing happened ... nothing major ... to everybody.
The requisite numbers of people died ... quite a few violently ... which was major to them ... but not so much to the living. The pool of isolation in the cities meant that those few with neighbors whom they liked noticed when the individual pebbles of death made ripples in the pond, but most people don't know their neighbors, don't want to know their neighbors and those deaths went unnoticed ... except for the few who were dead long enough to smell. Very rude.
Ships sank ... airplanes crashed ... one hundred and forty thousand teens ran away in the FED A ... no biggie ... happens every year. Happenings like are only important to parents ... and some of those were glad to be rid of the insolent brats.
The young learned very quickly that running away means running to worse than at home ... some went home ... most found out too late. There are damn few dreams that include prostitution.