There was a bit of a glitch with the scheduled post today, but I caught it in time. I’m still away, so I won’t be responding to comments for a few more days.
Part XII: Twenty Scientists
‘Bit of an understatement, that.’
I grin. We share the same sense of humour.
’So, are you my father or not?’
‘Does it matter?’
Does it? He’s either my father or my uncle – either way, the only family I have.
‘No, I don’t think it does.’
I ask him about the building he inhabits. It’s too big for one person, and too well equipped to have been a spur of the moment thing.
‘It’s a climate research station. There’s room for twenty scientists, equipment and provisions for years.’
‘Twenty scientists? Where is the rest, then?’
‘I’m the only one left.’
Only 100 Words 
Imagine actually having this conversation. Every minute, there’s some dramatic line, during which the lightning flashes and the dystopian wreck of a world holds its breath. Brill 🙂
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