“I wake from a dream where the world was beautiful. The trees were green and vibrant: alive, breathing. The air was bright blue and cool, and the sun beamed down, melting everything in its warmth. I saw a little boy, laughing as he ran across the fields chasing after a bumblebee, stumbling and tripping and falling headfirst into the warm dirt. He looked just like that photo of my great-great-grandfather.

I sigh and rub my eyes. I roll onto one side, and my eyes sweep past the little black clock facing the wall on my bedside table. Past the boxes of textbooks and other belongings strewn across the floor, and to my window, where the curtains are fluttering in the airstream from the ventilation system. I throw them open and gaze outwards: our world. The trees and fields are gone, a relic of about half a century ago, replaced by a network of tall buildings and sky trains and practical things.” Written by Maria Law.