The Sinking City of Asphodel_Adventures in Altron_Neighborhood Vacuuming_The Isle of Late Fees
Catalog Guide:
The Sinking City of Asphodel
That’s the thing about Asphodel, it’s sinking. Like a sandcastle built too close to the tide, the once-booming metropolis is completely submerged save the six saffron domes of the City Centre Gate. The domes protrude 50ft from the water in the pattern of a giant six-petalled flower. I was born here in the summer of 2020, we watched each other grow old and now I see her sink into the Pacific sixty years later. Asphodel was built on the West coast when the threat of climate change was only considered a possibility of the future rather than the destination of the future. Today, in the Spring of 2...
Adventures in Altron
Adventures in Altron By Robert Consiglio Alert level 1: Star Shield Testing will commence in 15 minutes. Colonel Jecos Diaz checks his smart watch, then again reads the electronic billboard announcing Star Shield inside the MetroTram he is riding in. He grunts and turns to gaze out of a grimy porthole at Altron’s immensity. Everywhere, as far as the eye can see, are jumbles of steel metal spires, towers, and grey and black skyscrapers and apartments, without so much as a single patch of greenery or trees. A brownish yellow smog lingers over the city. He...
Neighborhood Vacuuming
At first the dirty looks bothered her but she’s way more experienced at it now. She begins to slowly bend over and pick up a broken piece of plastic. Sometimes it’s better to have a system but other times she cleans as she pleases. Whenever she feels an excess of energy and her regular pastimes dont interest her, she bundles up, puts on two pairs of gloves and with a couple of trash bags she walks to the end of her neighborhood. Crosses the street and begins cleaning up the parallel neighborhood.We call them Grounders. They built this civilization with our main laws and they did extensive res...
The Isle of Late Fees
One hundred and sixty-two days, that was how long the old man had been stranded on the island. One hundred and seventeen days, that was how overdue his books were. He had to work the weight of those three hard covers into the buoyancy of his makeshift raft, which he had assembled meticulously over the course of months. His hair had grown long and unkempt, and his once pale skin had turned the texture of a leather-bound journal while his nails had become long enough to use as bookmarks. It was one thing to build a craft that could carry him back to the mainland, some four www.onedoor.ccor five days paddling ...