Sarah H Borwick

Hannah and Kinsey

It all started when our house got broken into. And of course I blame Kin, for leaving the window open— I mean, it’s fucking 2039. The poverty level is higher than ever, and our neighborhood in particular is so close to the encampments. Once upon a time, it was Blue Hills. I’d give anything to open my front door and see trees again, or a blue sky, or a car driving through the neighborhood. Anything but the vast sea of concrete that extends to the east and south of our apartment, with no end in sight. But cars were outlawed years ago, after the trees started going. I don’t even remember when the smog rolled in and settled over us like a blanket, but I’m confident that it’s here to stay.