Blackout

The past thirty years bear a startling resemblance to the Greek myth of Pandora when looked at clearly, in the light. A box that should not have been opened; a plague of pains and pestilences loosed upon the world; and, at the end, hope. Hope that we refused, for many years, to allow ourselves to look upon with unshadowed eyes. What were we afraid of? Were we afraid hope would prove another phantom, slipping through our hands like mist? Were we afraid something worse was hidden in its wake?

I think not. I think we were, quite simply, afraid to admit to hope because admitting to hope would mean admitting the world had changed forever. There is no return to the world we knew before the Rising. That world is dead. But as the Rising itself took such great pains to teach us…

Even after death, life still goes on.

—From Pandora’s Box: The Rising Reimagined, authored by Mahir Gowda, August 10, 2041.

Look, Ma! I’m abducting the president! Aren’t you proud of your baby girl now?

—From Charming Not Sincere, the blog of Rebecca Atherton, August 7, 2041. Unpublished.