Christine B

2021

It’s cold. It’s always cold. The air is stagnant, feeling a breeze is only a memory. It’s clean, but not like a fresh dew on the grass and air so crisp you can take a long breath and feel suddenly energized. It’s a sterile air, at least while the sun is out. Life in the compound is procedural, centered around labor and production. All individuality has been sacrificed for the cause. Laborers are assigned to the research Lab to find a cure and Producers are assigned an insemination year to help rebuild a longer lasting living population. Laborers and Producers all inherently develop a viral infection in their early adulthood. There is no cure, there is no immunity, except for Them.