Leave the City
by Claire Joanne Huxham
We left the city delirious, the future in our mouths. You laughed and cranked it up a gear while I wound the window down and threw my shoes out of the car. I twisted and watched them bounce, white on asphalt.
Now we can never go back.
We’ve got the best seats in the house. I offer you a buttered scone but you’re too busy looking at the sky. It’s crimson electric and angry, so angry. Red sky at night my dad always said, but I get the feeling this sky’ll be red for a long, long time. A column of smoke and so much liquid fire. It’s gone midnight but a hot, dry wind is blowing. It smells feral.
We can never go back.