5 Cities: The Thousand Gardens

There were more than a thousand gardens, of course.  The place that became the Five Cities was built on the skeleton of a forest and haunted by its fecund past.  It was lush with a flamboyant excess of greenspace, laid out and continually added to in an attempt to appease the leafy fates.  But such stately verdance was proved a pale shade once dame nature had room to stretch. The Five Cities gave her that, tearing up asphalt to get to the dirt, handing out flyers about rooftop gardens, letting…

5 Cities: Bliss

Bliss was pretty goddamn bored.  She was pretty fucking bored.  She was goddamned, fucking bored because she’d recently learned how cool it was to swear and her parents had moved the family to the Five Cities.  It wasn’t just that they’d left the East, where she had perfectly good friends, but they’d moved to the stupid, shitting, Bridge, of all places. “We’re getting in on the ground floor, ha, ha,” her dad said.  And continued to say.  Bliss wanted to think her mom was secretly on her side, but ever…

5 Cities: Angie

    Flashing a smile, Angie remembered to involve the muscles under her eyes to make it look genuine.  She replaced the empty carafe with a full one after refilling the board member’s cups and fading out of the room.  Comfortably out of sight behind the door, her shoulders fell and she tugged at the uncomfortable uniform collar that always felt like it was choking her.     Angie took a pocket watch out of her apron and checked the time. The dinner mess was gone, wheeled away by the rest of…

5 Cities: Hunt

   Hunt was, frankly, pretty damn pleased with his personal situation.  Sure, he didn’t have solar or gas and lived by the candle, plus he had just the one goat. But he had a hell of a garden and a bioswale just a couple of blocks off, with the river just beyond, if he needed it.  There was none of the push-shove you got living right along the river, which was perfect.  Hunt liked to keep to himself.    That was another plus to the whole thing.  There were only a couple…

This could become a habit

    It was common knowledge what an overpass was—that is, what they used to be.  Vehicles once sped across them, taking people over buildings and streets to the hearts of neighbourhoods.  People knew this.  They saw vehicles, cars and trucks and panel vans, at the museum for a suggested donation.  They could also see them, rusted to anonymity, in any corner of the Five Cities.     People knew about overpasses the same way they knew that thirty miles west was where the good wine came from, hills rolling with vineyards…