Lucid Waking

Archive for January 24th, 2009

Sky

        “What color do you suppose the sky is?” she asked, staring up at the metal dome arching above the buildings in the center of the city.
        Sixty years ago, he might have been able to tell her, although his perception would have been thrown off. He was only twenty-six, so he had always known the dome. He felt safe within the man-made weather globe, protected from pollution and disease. Traveling was done by tunnel systems, lined with metal to protect people from radiation and acid ground water. Everything in the dome was paradise and there was no reason to go looking outside it. All the causes of the problems outside were fixed; there were no cars, garbage, or unnecessary burning. Everything was recyclable or electronic and anything that needed to be disposed of was burned in a large furnace and the ashes sent outside. Mostly, though, no one bothered to worry about that.
        He took note of the falling light from the sun lamps on the side of her profile he could see. “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “Blue?”