Plastic Shores

A trashy, futuristic, drug-induced, fever-dreamish, speculative fiction story.

“If land was still a possibility, I could’ve gone partying to Mexico,” I said.

“Why Mexico?” Dad said.

“The legal drinking age there was eighteen.”

“Ah,” he proceeded to take a spoonful of green beans and gulped them down with some filtered water.

“Also, if oceans were clean, I could’ve gone swimming. Or even better… Scuba diving!” Don’t be so dumb, Judy. It’s never gonna…