Apparently a church was starting, which meant super-secret meeting to discuss blowing shit up and probably my fate. Anyway, Prospect and I were up in the bar. Menial shit but even the damn prospect wouldn’t look at me. He was pissed like everyone else and I couldn’t blame him. “Need help with that?” I asked as he dragged a heavy box from the back room. “Nope.” Yup, he’s still mad. I went back to wiping off tables. When that was done, I stood in front of the window and stared out. The sun way high, making the city shine and reflective. I could see the mounds of red dirt past the city. The construction sites were around all the edges. We were always building, growing, using material from Earth minimally as it tried to recover from all the previous generations of abuse. Prospect grunted and a few bottles of natural fruit flavor fell out, rolling across the floor. I picked them, placing them on the counter. “I don’t need your help.” “So we went from friends to enemies overnight?”
