Often my mind returns to those fields where we lay gazing at the sky, sharing our dreams. Why couldn’t you have stayed with me and lived the simple life, tilling the soil, living in harmony with nature?
Instead, you became a scientist employed at a Government research facility, where you invented a device to regulate abnormal cell growth in the human body and cure all forms of cancer.
Terrorists modified the device for war but neither side won.
Us survivors live underground, unable to endure sunlight upon our mutated forms. We live off worms and dream of a time machine.
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Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories
Photo prompt: image © Marie Gail Stratford
Sarah Potter Writes 