Dreams of Yesterday
Dust was the only inhabitant of the vast and empty expanse of the Once Great Plains. Dust and Wind. Ominous, black clouds filled the sky in all directions, sending unrelenting Winds and devastating cyclones to ravage the barren plains. It seemed that the only thing the Wind couldn’t drive away was the Dust, which casually played through the violent Winds as though they were not but a gentle breeze. It hadn’t always been this way. Before the bombs fell, the Great Plains had been full of life. Cities, towns, farmsteads, and acres upon acres of farmland provide food for the once great nation. It made sense that the first thing to go was food. The rest of the country was, as of yet, untouched by the horror of nuclear war. At least, not directly. The Once Great Plains were now under a strict quarantine. Inhabitants of neither coast were allowed entry and all inhabitants of both coasts were forced to remain in their hometowns. Travel between states, cities, or in some cases even neighborhoods was strictly prohibited. These restrictions seemed not to encumber the lone man riding a 2035 Harley Davidson through the endless Dust of the Once Great Plains.
