Seeds of Hope
Team: Lexical Literati
I woke up under the wing of the P-40 E Warhawk. With its nose painted like a fierce shark face, teeth ready to tear through the Japanese, my battered World War II plane protected me. I didn’t own it, but spend seven years sleeping under such a fighter and your perception changes. This plane was mine now, just like the whole of the Air and Space Museum was “home.”
Since my papa headed our community’s technological resurrection team, I could sleep anywhere in the museum. Natural light streamed in from the faux-hangar ceiling, waking me up early.
When the pulses first hit I was ten, and the floating displays of humankind’s mechanical marvels comforted me.
I’d never had reason to move.
I stared up at airplanes, jets, and space rockets we hadn’t yet sc
