Creative Writing Story: Global Warming

Here are the results of the first creative writing exercise - A story set far into our future, a future made dark by the sizzling glow of the sun in a time when the ozone layer is mere legend. Here is my version of the creative writing story inspired by our first exercise:

Her teeth glowed like radiation as they flashed between her dark, rough skin as she smiled at me from across the bar. Women seem to find me more attractive than most, and it often brings more frustration than pleasure. My family, coming from the northern Alaskan wilderness, somehow retained a light luster in the skin, a smoother complexion and impressively chestnut locks throughout the generations.

Thus, to find beauty like that of my mother or sisters is rare, especially in the dark covered streets of Washington, D.C. I’m sure the women feel the same, looking at me. I felt a bit of guilt for my impossible standards as it comingled with the disgust that struck as the creature swooped off of her stool and began meandering my way.



I quickly gulped down the tequila in my glass, threw a 10 note to the bartender and slipped from my chair, avoiding the eyes of the reptile queen, and creeping into the dark DC air; Stagnant, really, because a breeze so infrequently stirs the air underneath the city’s great canopy. As a child, I enjoyed the i-cyclopedia so much that my mother often had to take my personal media player away, but I remember photos of a glorious Capitol under a blue sky, snow covering Central Park, or lush islands that once sat somewhere south of what remains of Florida. It’s hard to even grasp that the world once looked that way, looking around. Hell, I believe the only place you can find snow these days is Antarctica!

It’s familiar enough, like a recurring dream; clips of video, sound bytes, chunks of text are everywhere. The oldest ‘films’ are still available in some digital form, even though nobody I’ve known has actually sat down that long to simply watch a screen. I was wondering if people could ever see the small changes occurring over a single lifetime, if the grass lived a shorter life, if the ocean lapped noticeably closer to cities- and then the sharp distinct whine of velocity stabbed my ears and I snapped my neck to the sky. The pressure filled my ears and the gleam of polished aluminum and offending serpent flames forced me to squint. I was just able to cover my ears and attempt to turn away as the cockpit of a 909 Jet slammed into a run-down old stadium.

The noise was deafening as every staggering drunk, streetwalker and citizen still wandering the area ran toward the old stadium, while every curtain within a 10 block radius pulled back to see what was unraveling.
However there’s no point- were it not for the complex structures providing shade for the city, the burning of the sun would surely be torturous. My fair skin would become that of a crocodile, and I don’t find sweat very becoming…


PS I will explain my long absence in a new post (If anyone reads this). Please feel free to share your own creative writing story or comment below!