On my way into the kitchen to make breakfast, I tripped over something soft and squishy. When I flipped on the a light, there was a teddy bear, sitting in the doorway. Facing the fridge.
I had no kids and owned no teddy bears.
Following the teddy’s gaze to the fridge, I found words spelled out with my letter magnets. Two words.
I woke up. I had my dream journal with me in bed. Pen in my hand. Half asleep, I had written two words.
In the dark morning outside, a tapping started on my window.
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The last eight years have been the warmest on record.
Little Blue Marble‘s anthology of speculative climate fiction and poetry from an international slate of authors mourns and hopes in equal measure for the fate of our world and its ecosystems.
May these visions of the future inspire collective action before climate chaos becomes irreversible.
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