The world itself has reached a near catatonic state. The soil has hardened in many places, refusing to give birth to new seed or form of life. Other places burn with a fever unknown and unimaginative to previous generations before us. The lakes of liquid fire corrode us from the inside and melt our skins on the outside if daring enough for a dip. We predict this will be the last generation of human kind on this planet, the one before killed us all. They had set this world on fire with a constant invisible threat. To survive we walk, to breath we labor, to hope… it dies every….     Day.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.