by John Xero
“I can’t stand it,” Carmen muttered.
Joel stroked her hair, silver since birth, only now suiting her age.
“Can’t stand what, mother?”
“You can’t feel it? Restricting us. Crushing us. We can’t be everything we ought to; we can’t be great anymore, only ordinary.”
He sighed. This again. “Society has to be controlled. We’re so few and the balance so fine. Roles must be assigned, resources rationed.”
“Symptoms. Just Symptoms. It’s the water, Joel. Thousands of tons pressing down on the dome, on us. We need open skies, freedom.”
“They say the skies are black with poisons.”
“So they do.”
Author bio: John Xero firmly believes you shouldn’t believe everything you are told, and that everyone needs open skies if they are to ever fly.
Little white lies: @xeroverse
Big lies, aka ‘stories’: xeroverse.com
Pressure is part of 101 Fiction issue 12.