2065
Walking out of my apartment, I look up at the sky, colored a dark, stormy grey with soot and smog. I can barely see about 100 feet away from me, the stuff is so dense. It's like misty walls are trying to push in towards me, suffocate me.
In no way is this healthy. I think.
I have to walk through it anyway, though. At least, to the bus stop.
Squinting through the gloom, I see a shadowy, bus-shaped vehicle, headlights looking like lighthouse beams in the haze.
Crap. I start to run, waving my arms. Just as the bus is about to pull off, the driver sees me, and opens the doors. I climb inside and stand, gripping one of the specially made handles, since there's no room to sit.
One more side effect of the smog.
I can barely remember when I was a child, and the air was clear. You didn't have to blindly stumble your way through the smog, or worry about not having a mask to shield your nose and mouth.
But those were better times.
2085
"We are proud to say that the increase in smog levels have stopped!" The smiling reporter says. "This is a great day-"
I switch off the 3D-Vision (the name was made up when that sort of stuff was still funny), and look at Anne, who looks as disgusted as I feel.
"Hey," I say, trying to cheer her up. "The project launch is in about two weeks."
"I know." she says. I just... it's that..."
"I feel worried, too. While all of those people up there will be flying around and having a great time, we'll probably have died from the pollution."
"Don't remind me."
I try to distract her. "Do you want to review the diagrams one last time?"
"Sure."
I switch on the 3D-Vision again. This time, it's diagrams, realistic but nondescript human forms. There is one thing that's different, though.
Wings. They all have wings. They're not sewn on, but grown, using a new gene grafting technique. Next to the humans, there is a fairly large, egg-shaped pod, with only a very faint outline showing the doorway. The humans will be born wingless, but the genes will be there, lying dormant. The pod will dramatically speed up the growth process, and - poof! Wings!
It can only be done at a young age, though. Too late for us.
They will need wings because of the islands. Floating. Yes, floating, in the sky, where they will live. Above the haze and inversion, being able to survive the high altitude with modified lungs. The islands have already been built, of course. How they float is a secret, even I don't know it.
I wish I was younger, able to run and jump like I used to. I wish that I could go up there, too, and live a perfect, worry-free life.
But those were better times.