2076

He woke up. Turning to the side, he lifted his head up and looked out the window and admired the picture: a grassy field bestowed with sunlight, several other small homes such as his own, and children playing tag dressed in shorts and long-sleeves, laughing without responsibility. Lifting off his thin blanket, Mark  got out of bed and dubiously walked towards his mirror: he suddenly turned around and was bewildered. It was the middle of January. Why wasn’t he struggling to throw off his heavy comforter? Why wasn’t he freezing cold? Why were Jovo and Randle playing tag and not building their traditional snowman family? Mark glanced around his room: things were bizarre. The open window and fan twirling were out of place. The heat from the oddly bright sun was not the one he was used to feeling in January. Suddenly hot and desperate for a cool glass of water, Mark frantically scanned around his room and grabbed his alarm clock: 2 PM, January 16th. Things were out of place: there was no way this could be. He grabbed his phone and quickly swiped to the weather app: 80 degrees.
Hoping this was a weird dream, Mark closed the app and stared out the window. He heard unconcerned laughter from his neighbor’s children, Jovo and Randle, as they jumped around in bright green grass. The smiles on their faces could not be wiped away even if the Earth was in utter destruction. Looking once more at his phone, Mark’s attention was stolen. He saw an email reading in bold letters: OUR POP CULTURE PREDICTIONS FOR 2076. Turning left to right, eyes bulging, Mark felt the room spinning. His mind was plastered with billions of thoughts: confusion, doubt, and more confusion. Turning to his calendar he saw red Xs everywhere--until January 16th. Mark looked up on the calendar, and saw 2076 in bold. With his hands clutched to his head, mind spinning uncontrollably, Mark could only hope this was a mistake. Instinctively he grabbed his warmest sweatshirt, but realizing his new conditions, he uneasily threw it back down.
“Do you think school will be cancelled next week? Randle heard on the news that the rivers have been flooded more than normal and the GWM hasn’t found a way to transport,” Jovo asked her mother with plead and hope vibrating in her voice. The river system was how anyone got anywhere in Perditio. Occasionally these river systems would spill into villages, and when flooding occurred the GWM Department would have to provide uncertain answers to soothe the cries of the town. Mother replied, almost as uncertainly, “Who knows, for the past 30 years the GWM has not given a care in the world for any concerns our homes have--there is a reason we live here, and not where your grandparents once did.” Jovo sighed. A hollow knock came from the front door and Mark stood befuddled, speechless and filled with anxiety. Noticing her neighbor’s expression, Jovo quickly skipped small talk and hellos. “Mark! What happened? Why do you look like you just...you just--”
“Help me! I feel like I’m in some parallel universe...nothing is the same, even standing here with you seems out of place! Why isn’t the fire in the fireplace burning? Why are there flip flops out? Why--”
Jovo cut him off. Disturbed by his seeming lack of consciousness and his uncharacteristic behavior, Jovo pulled Mark in. “Why are you so tense? Why would we ever have the fire burning? Why would I choose to wear anything but flip flops--jeez Mark, we’re not trying to sweat to death!” Jovo laughed, yet was concerned that she seemed to have the upper hand against Mark. In exasperation, his confusion altered to anger. “It’s the middle of January--last night it was snowing and freezing.” Jovo was stunned, furrowed her eyebrows at Mark, and her mother strolled into the room. “Did someone say snow? Mark!” Pleased to see her neighbor, Mother’s warmness spread from her arm as she lightly touched Mark in gentle greeting. She smiled, but noticing the frantic expression painted across his face she asked if he was alright. Mark was breathing heavily and looking down at the cool tile floor to the new, polished kitchen, and farther to the inviting TV room Jovo and her brother spent all their time in--at least usually in the winter. “I’m fine--I think--but far as I can remember, last week we got warnings of a blizzard, and now Jov’ and Randle were playing tag as if it was the middle of summer!” Mark, exasperated, looked down at Jovo who was holding back cackles of mockery. With looks of understanding as if she was waking up her son from a nightmare, she asked “Did you have a bad dream Mark? The last time we had a blizzard was when me and your mother were young....has she been telling you stories of her childhood?” Mother reminisced, laughing in memory, disappointment, longing, and fear. “What?! I know what a blizzard is--what is happening?!” Mark cried out. Suddenly no longer amused, Jovo and her mother looked at one another in sudden worry, glancing quickly back at Mark. “Are you insane? What type of joke--” Jovo started to scold. Her mother stepped in front of her swiftly. “Things don’t seem right and you seem ill Mark,” turning to the side, Mother took Mark’s hand and led him to their inviting, cozy couch covered in blankets and throw pillows, “take a seat. I just made some tea, and I think you need some.” Jovo considered making a sly remark about how tea was useless nowadays--its heat was not comforting at all, and even the adults prefered cool lemonade. Given her neighbor’s circumstance, however, she saw it best to remain quiet and to silently convey her worry. Shaking slightly as if brought into an unknown universe, Mark looked around nervously and Mother sat next to him. “Go fetch some tea Jovo,” she demanded, keeping her attention focused on her friend. “You do seem abnormally worried, unlike your usual self. I’m not going to mock you or accuse you of making a joke--which if you are, you should be very disappointed. It isn’t smart to play these games on me, which you know” she sternly warned, somewhat still hoping Mark would start laughing. He avoided eye contact and sighed. “I feel like nothing makes sense. Maybe I fell on my head and got concussed or something, but as far as I know yesterday there was a warning of a blizzard. You had just warned Jovo and Randle not to play outside unless they wanted frostbite. I clearly remember before I slept putting on the warmest clothes I had, and hoping that everything would be okay with the incoming weather...It’s January, and it seems as if it is the middle of July…” Mark’s head started throbbing and he was overcome with frustration and perplextion like he had never felt. Tilting her head, Mother looked at Mark as if she was a doctor trying to diagnose her patient. Smiling slightly, she joked. “It’s as if you got transplanted 60 years into the future and you were part of the life your grandmother lived when she was your age, back in 2016.”
“It seems like you just had a bad dream, and you’re still living it...to be honest with you, I wish I was still living the blizzard days...” Mother got up out of her seat and Jovo approached the two, holding two steaming cups of hot tea. Handing one to her mother and one to Mark, Jovo stared at both, silent, and thinking. Mother smiled with warmth at Mark. “Drink your tea and relax. I’m sure this state of yours will vanish soon. We will be in the kitchen,” Mother said, ushering her daughter in the kitchen. Turning to the side and taking a sip of his tea, Mark furrowed his eyebrows; it was too hot. Putting the drink down, he reclined on the sofa and made himself at home. He put his legs up and glanced around the room, noticing a stack of books; Mark was drawn to them. Leaning up and grabbing the books swiftly, Mark spanned them out across his body. He picked them up one by one, stroking their antiquity and fragility. It was clear they had been ignored. The first title read “Why We Live In Santa’s Home”, and the second, “The Global Ignorance of Climate”. Flipping through each of the books, Mark had visions of his life: he lived in the North Pole. However, it wasn’t freezing cold, the epitome of winter, nor the home of polar bears. Ice had turned into lakes, and lakes had started to spill over onto land, forming rivers that transported citizens around town, creating webs of nature’s own highway. Civilization was at the top of the globe; population numbers severely dropped and the news tried to cover up the fact that the generation after Mark’s could possibly be the last to inhabit Earth. Sea levels rose rapidly. It was as if Mark got hit by a truck; everything started to make sense. He grabbed the second, much older book, “The Global Ignorance of Climate” and flipped through it. Feeling hopeless and trapped by the life he discovered, he realized mankind was at risk. Flipping to the first page, Mark read:

It is 2016. Many problems are rising in our modern, globalized world. However, we cannot forget one that affects all of humanity; not just America, not just the Middle East, not just Europe. We must regard global warming as a priority of all of mankind. As we prevent being destroyed by one another we must prevent being destroyed by mother nature, before it is irreversible. Protect your prosperity.

Sighing with recognition, understanding, and growing despair, Mark turned once more. He looked out the window and saw the beaming sun on January 16th, 2076, the children running around in shorts. It was almost as if Mark saw the local rivers growing centimeter by centimeter. It was probable that Jovo wouldn’t have school; that was the least of her concerns.