Fiction
The Year 2070 Pt. 1
Short Story
The year was 2070, and the young ones could not believe how different life was only half a century ago. Nehemiah, the youngest, at eight-years-old, loved to hear the stories of the old days the most.
The grandmother had fed the children enough to eat for supper, so she finally ate herself. She had half a sweet potato, a bit of fish, and a tomato. The potato was sweet, and the old woman sucked it down like it would be her last. The fish was dry, but nourishing. Tomatoes had always been her favorite. For a moment, she remembered her own girlhood sitting on the back porch with her own grandmother eating juicy, red tomatoes seasoned with only salt and pepper.
“Tell us about the year everything changed,” Nathaniel, the second youngest, at twelve-years-old, said.
It had been dark for a couple hours. If she had a watch, or a clock, the grandmother would say it was about 8 p.m.
None of the children had been able to sleep lately, so she figured she could tell them about her old life until they dozed off.
The old woman looked around the shack. It was clean. It had been swept. Their few dishes had been washed. Though water was scarce, they always managed to get enough from the ever drying up river, but that wouldn’t be for long. Their…
