WHO WANTS TO LIVE FOREVER?,
by Angela Yuriko SmithI opened my eyes to see the rust stained ribs of the bridge overhead. The acrid stench of burning garbage permeated everything. Someone might be trying to heat food or burn themselves alive. Neither mattered. Neither would work. The nanobots did their job too well.
The sound of bone splitting against metal echoed across the greasy water, followed by a splash. I sat up. A woman my age was floating face down. She looked hopeful. Smart, she had aimed for the carcass of a broken down barge. It listed aimlessly with the current alongside her, two broken things on a journey to nowhere. There was a mark on the hull from her impact—a daisy shaped splatter of dark red. It was pretty. It made me think of art. Maybe… but no.
I sighed and stood up.
