One Long Sunday – Short Story

The fan moved the still air, around the bunker. Since the crash of 2025, air had become a precious commodity. The irony of the wind generator running the fan in the bunker to circulate the stale air wasn’t wasted on Harper. The problem was the air that turned the wind turbine wasn’t worth breathing. Since the world had destroyed itself, the atmosphere contained chemicals. Chemicals that even the most robust living organism couldn’t survive. Still, the filtration machine cleaned the air and the fan circulated it throughout. The air smelt stale and it was always hot, but breathing it couldn’t kill you.