• In a perfect world, everyone would work for the good of everyone else. The big picture would be the only picture: one great, knowledgeable photo of ideal life. Worrying about getting by with what little was available, choosing between food and heat — everything you ever needed would be handed out like meaningless scribbles. There would be no sickness, no diseases. Violence would be obsolete and a thing of the past. No fighting, let alone wars — no conflict whatsoever. Never having enough or fearing for your life would be unheard of, and everyone would be equal. Men and women, races and religions, wouldn’t be defined by social boundaries or simple condescension. Opportunities would be served up on silver platters of elation.

    In a perfect world, everyone would help each other. Technology would be so advanced that no one ever needed to worry about how to get from one place to another ever again. Time would have no meaning; you could break the ever-perplexing bonds, traveling that perplexing, never-ending loop without a care in the world.

    Naturally, in a perfect world no one would know how lucky it was that they had been born into such a sublime, harmonious existence. Unfortunately, I know. We all know. Having been force-fed the same information all our lives has been a burden of immense clarity. What happened to create this ignorant bliss was the worst new beginning of all time.

    Of course, I don’t live in a perfect world. Remember, on a Utopian planet, no one would know anything other than a pristine existence.

    The nuclear fallout left over from the final destruction is almost completely harbored by our oceans; most of our water tends to be fatal if you are within a hundred foot radius. Natural drinking water is a thing so far forgotten that it’s more of a myth than anything. Hundred of thousands of hours have been poured into filters, cleansers, nuclear magnets — all to try and remove the impurities that surround us, that we created. Bits of water have been cleared and sieves are constantly working to remove even more waste from that, so-called, clean water. Water is widely available due to different cultures overcoming the bonds of an antecedent system and working together, cooperating to find a solution to a single problem — one out of so many.

    Money was deposed simply because the billion or so people left in the world had so little that survival was more important to them than the meaningless coins and bills fluttering about desolate streets. The most powerful cities in the world had been obliterated before the eyes of an astounded, gasping public, watching mushroom-clouds in shapes of perfected peace signs and other international symbols of accord as if they were a sudden and harmless fireworks display. Reality hit only as bodies were incinerated and families across the world were torn apart. People ran for bomb-shelters and hid under desks — which was, needless to say, ineffective.

    Within the first few moments, everyone within twenty-six miles was killed, mostly instantaneously. Television reports were wiped out as their cameramen were blinded along with all of the viewers. Moments after that a wave of fire obliterated everything within 3000 square miles; 31,000 square miles of the land was simply gone in a haze of fire from each bomb. Eight countries were involved: The Peoples’ Republic of China, The Russian Federation, The United States, Brazil, The Republic of India, South Africa, Pakistan, The United Kingdom. Eight nuclear bombs were let fly. 248,000 square miles of the approximately 93,087,500 or land winked out as if they had never existed. Moments after that, the temperature of the earth increased to such a great temperature that most of the ozone was compromised and ultra-violet light seeped in, exterminating the rods and cones of millions of eyes.

    People who had managed to make it to shelters, or simply their own basements, were cremated as pressure and heat rose to that of a lava flow. Species surviving from the time of the dinosaurs were swept away without another thought. More than eighty percent of an overpopulation was removed in a matter of seconds. Around two billion people were left unharmed — but separated into miniscule groups of a few thousand here and there.
    During the first two or three months after the blast, fallout continued to spread, and cancer became the number one cause of death among survivors. Second was asphyxiation. Third: starvation. Another half of the population fell away. Some of the UV light was miraculously blocked by the noxious fumes caused by the blast. A layer of methane, carbon-monoxide, smoke, floating bacteria, heat, and detritus floated about the earth. The last thing those inhabiting the space station saw as they floated away from home was a greyish, flickering, lethal-looking cloud enveloping the world as they knew it.

    In simple terms, the world was dead. How could there be hope when every day it got harder to breathe and harder to find untainted food to survive on? Some plants remained, animals wandered aimlessly. During the next few hundred years, the oceans absorbed most of the fall-out, thus killing most fish and sea-life all together. As collateral decreased and most of the ruins were taken over by natural ground shifting and plant-growth, the sky began to clear. More oxygen was available, and that benefited every living thing on the planet. This was the start of the recovery.

    Acid rain still mutilated the earth and bits of debris continued to fall from the sky — glass, metal shards. That in turn was sucked up by the earth like inhaling asbestos. Scavengers made their way into near-safe cities to look for… anything. Few cities had so much as a splinter of wood left. Australia was nearly untouched. A signal was sent out every day for years on end: “We are alive, we have food, we can harbor survivors.” The message was broadcast all over the world in seven different languages, counting up once after every minute-and-a-half cycle ended. Other safe-zones were discovered and inhabited, broadcasts sent out from multiple locations. Slowly, cities began to reappear. People were working for the created benefit of the people without being asked no matter who or what they had been before the bombings.

    Now, all the history books act as if it were planned. I certainly agree. Who would create shape-making nuclear bombs? Then again, who would want to destroy a whole society?
    Today is the five-thousandth-and-one-year anniversary of that day — the Destruction. Or, at least, our world leaders have agreed that is the day that would be celebrated. Happy D-day, right? Many of us visit vast monuments — commemorating the billions who died. Every year it comes around, I can’t help but wonder how we got here ¬— arrived at this near-perfect solidarity.

    After life moved forward, ideas that had never been exposed flourished. No one was told they couldn’t or it wasn’t possible. New inventions began pouring out of once-remote countries, research facilities were opened up and surviving scientists preyed upon their freedom, sucking out every drop of schooling and pouring it into their trials. Governments no longer restricted programs based on religious ideals or illusory financial constraints. Concepts that had been held prisoner in a single country mingled with that of all the others. Ideas set up forts in the minds of children — prodigies were created where homeless had been.
    In five thousand years, a lot can happen to heal a world.

    We only have half a copybook. The technology of this world is so advanced that it is near unrivaled among worlds. Most diseases have been so fervently beaten down that perhaps they’re simply scared to return. The common cold flares up now and then, and people sometimes die not having been exposed to such viruses and bacteria their whole lives.

    We’ve managed to keep our population close to three billion — mostly due to sterility left over from passed-on nuclear exposure. When the atmosphere finally breathed a sigh of relief and managed a pure rain, it was a miracle. Suddenly a new planet was born — fresh, anew, ready to be molded into something so many times stronger than before.

    Human nature is still a ‘problem’, but who can quash fallible hunks of flesh? Great acts of violence appear now and then, but never enough to be called genocide or slaughter or any or the multitude that had occurred during the old-times. Having everything that you wanted granted peace among groups that would otherwise be sworn enemies. So why the occasional brutality? Boredom.

    Animal-cruelty is high on the list of atrocious things people do. Pets disappear all the time; it’s been banned, but not thoroughly enforced. Horrible people entertain their minds and bodies with cruelty. What possible poison could have been zipped into our genetics that even after a new beginning it survives? Evil perhaps...






    CONTENT, CONTEXT, IDEA © 2008 Chloe Barnett