By Yolanda Renée
I had underdressed. My sweats clashed with the uniforms and smartly dressed people around me, but boredom united us. Shifting foot-to-foot, blank stares and loud sighs emphasized the line’s slow movement forward. After queuing for half an hour, I finally reached the ticket counter.
“Guess I"m not the only one who waited until the last minute to leave our dying planet.” I tried to keep my tone light as I greeted the attendant.
“May I help you?” The stylishly dressed clerk pursed her lips and glared. I wondered if a smile had ever cracked her face.
“I"d like a ticket for the Capital Colony on Salus. Two months from now.” I handed her my ID card.
She swiped it across her viewer, and said, “Please step on the scale.”
I did, heard a beep, and stepped back.
“I"m sorry, Qu
