The original question hypothesized a sky falling scenario. But that is quite ridiculous. In essence, we’d all be crushed into pancakes and that would signal the end of me. Unless, of course, the sky fell very slowly and I was exceptionally good at digging. Not really the case. Oh yes, one could argue that the atmosphere suddenly disappearing would be equally as disastrous, unless, of course, you’re a sailor in a submarine. But me being a sailor is about as likely as me digging a hole. But if said atmosphere disappeared but we knew in advance, then, then we’d have a good chance of survival. This is my story. Dun, dun.
It was a cold morning in June when the sky went weird. Nobody really knew what happened that day. Some said it was aliens. Others said it was the government. Some even suggested it had connections to the dead. Me? Well, I blamed the hippies. No idea why, it’s just when things go wrong, blaming them is often a failsafe. One thing was for sure: the Earth was venting our atmosphere. Regardless of how, we were inevitably screwed. Many people started looting food. Anarchy on the streets. I took food as a second priority. My main priority was looting underwear.
Oxygen deprivation, temperature drop, and a severe dose of UV radiation were the biggest killers in the first few weeks. We lost many good people. The government scrambled to build pressurized atmosphere domes. They called them Pressurized Energy Never-failing Instant Super-domes, or PENIS for short. Apparently, that acronym was a total accident. Every town got one. Pressurized domes with self-sufficient food and UV reflecting heat glass. First come first serve. It was manic. Thousands of people cramming inside. With only hours to go until our atmosphere deserted us, thousands more were still trying to get in. I was one of the lucky ones. People were banging on the glass. Violence erupted. Some people were even wearing respirators. But without the atmosphere, they were unable to pressurize and were useless. I’ll never forget the faces of the dead. Clinging to hope that we’d save them.
And there they lay, burning and rotting under the Sun whilst we carried on our lives like nothing had happened. A new society. Connected via Wi-Fi to the other PENIS’s across the country and across the world. We managed to survive. A new society. We clung on to hope. We did what humanity does best. We survived.
As for me? I’ve had a good decade here. Moved on. Built my own shack amongst the thousands of other shacks. It’s not much but it serves me well. Small but comfortable. Here in Zone 38 there are around 50,000 people. But it’s a home. I met someone. She’s called Darren. I know it’s confusing, but she must be a woman. We had one of those babies. And another. I work for the council we created. Regulating the money and the laws. And right now, I’m chairing a committee whose aim is to come up with a better name for our PENIS’s. And I’m still blogging. My latest post was about how to write a good story about being under a dome without making it a tedious and repetitive teen drama.
I’m happy. How is my life different without our atmosphere? Pretty good. We’ve survived. As Winston Churchill once said, “We shall draw from the heart of suffering itself the means of inspiration and survival”. And, as George Carlin once said, “The planet is fine. The people are ”.
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The Indelible Life of Me
New Post Every Sunday
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Hark Around the Words
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