Mishka Green

I awoke gasping and coughing the dust out of my lungs, the pain still sharp and my head feeling several sizes too big. The floor was wet and uneven under my back and I can feel the wind howling through the broken window. Not knowing where I was it was important to get my bearings. I found a knife, lighter, coins, and compass in my pockets. First things first, take a look outside.

The wind was howling and the snow kicked up on the ground, bare trees and no signs of life. It looked like Los Angeles but the weather conditions did not make any sense. People going about their business but they did not seem happy about it. People in Los Angeles usually show some signs of happiness but these Angelinos had taken the mood of the climate, cold and distant. The sun was out but it only offered a crude way to distinguish night and day. Mountains of bodies being piled near Broadway and 3rd street by trucks that have spray painted on their sides “BRING OUT YOUR DEAD”, needless to say this wasn’t your daddy’s Los Angeles. Large trucks moving, cars speeding along, people moving too and fro, billboards and helicopters fill the sky. A booming voice coming from a loud speaker that said “Good afternoon citizens! It is now 4:00pm on today June 19th 2047. Don’t forget to keep warm and alert. Due to good behavior today’s curfew has been extended to 10:30, reward yourself with a recreational activity!”

Walking through Biddy Mason plaza I realized that I was already dressed for the weather in several layers and my feet were surprisingly warm given the current conditions, attached to my wrist was a watch of sorts that gave me the current temperature and map of where I was. Not realizing the cold feeling on my chest was a revolver banging against my chest I froze in fear not fully understanding the reason I had this pistol in my grip. Scared I ran into the corner and went deeper into my belongings. Finally my ID card. Here lies all the answers! Blood type, address, occupation, voter registration date, political party affiliation, race, gender, eyes, hair, economic class, and most importantly my name. Everything I would need to piece together who I am and what the hell was going on. Here’s where the journey begins.