The air was dank, musty, foggy and thick. Lines of vision began to blur after about 5 meters ahead but then again, there wasn’t much of a view anyway. The buildings were old, and only a few were lighted, very dimly. Welcome to New york. Where the buildings were old and the people were young and there were old tales about the once glorious city of lights! The big apple! Those were just old stories. Stories about when life was easy. 

Now the earth was on its last legs, the air was polluted, energy resources were depleted, people hardly lived past 50 and there was no power.

Lance looked up from his book and out the window.


‘Concentrate Lance’ an authoritative but quiet voice said sharply


Lance turned his head back to ‘The principles of Karl Max’

He looked at the words and read them but they had no meaning. The book was empty, it was pointless trying to concentrate.


‘Dad, I’m done for today.’ He said, closing the large textbook and rising from the table.


‘You just started, sit down’ His father replied.


‘I’m done’ he repeated…weighing each word and slowly turned to a darkened hallway and began the long, tedious journey to his room.


He passed several house servants on his way and nodded casually to each one. He reached his room and sat on his bed, staring at the wall. Lance was a boy, almost a man, he had the voice and the height and the muscles to prove it but he was still a boy, barely 19 years old. He had deep black hair and eyes so dark they were almost black and he was pale. He wasn’t allowed outside, his father said it would kill him, just like it killed his mother but he knew his father lied, he’d been outside. He always went outside on tuesday and sunday nights when his father went to bed early because of big meetings the next day. He always said it was too late for him, he was just as good as dead so he could go outside. It was just him and his father, Ronald. Ronald Crank, big time business man and one of the very few people in new york that had enough money to power their entire home and not just a home, a mansion, it was huge.


About a quarter mile from Lance and his thoughts in a small single bedroom apartment, another brooder sat wondering with tears in her eyes and a fresh bruise on the side of her face.

Jane sighed and let her head droop. another memory flashed in her mind and she winced.


‘Janey! Come on out sweety, you know I didn’t mean to hit you’ her husband Terry drawled from the doorway


‘I know, terry, its alright. A little make up will clear it right up’ she said, almost choking on the forced smile.


Terry and Jane, high school sweethearts. Everyone said they’d get married and they did but in their senior year. Jane was pregnant and her parents had kicked her out, her only salvation was Terry. She went straight from the frying pan into the fire.

She lost the baby, Terry beat it out of her and then apologized for it later by slapping her ass and winking.

She had such a bright future, she was smart, she wanted to be a teacher. She had big baby blue eyes that could charm a rabid dog and wavy blonde hair. She was beautiful by all standards, not too fat and not too thin, she was barely 21 and she was locked in. Her husband never…ever let her outside


‘Wouldn’t want one of ’em raggamuffins taking ma janey’ he always said


But she’d been outside and no one took her. She snuck out on monday and friday nights when Terry worked 2 shifts at the factory and went to bed early because he was tired.


That day was a tuesday and Lance had left his house to his usual spot. A bench in a park close by, next to a lamp post…the only working lamp post in that park.

Jane was cleaning up after dinner and Terry had fallen asleep on the couch after drinking a couple beers. A dish fell out of her hand and crashed on the floor. It woke her husband and he stumbled into the kitchen and slapped her over her still throbbing cheek.

She shrieked and grabbed another dish, breaking it over his head. He passed out.

‘Weakling’ she spat at his fallen form.

She grabbed her coat and went out.

To her spot, A bench in a park close by, next to a lamp post…the only working lamp post in the small park. It wasn’t her usual night to go but she needed to breathe even if it was the foul air outside. 

  She walked through the grass with her head down, the route already burned in her mind.

 He sat enjoying the silence and the sky that was so foreign to him.


She stopped in front of her bench and stared.

He woke up from his thoughts and blinked.


Lance met Jane

Jane met Lance


Two souls met their other half in the dank, dusty streets of New York in 2052.

The light from the lamp post flickered and went out.

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