First Place: Fiction Don’t Go
Danielle Spencer, Smithton
At 7:06 A.M. the sun rose. No one in Denver could see it, but it came over the horizon. No one has seen a sunrise in years thanks to all the pollution and smog in the air. Instead, there is a gradual lightening in the sky until the predawn joggers realize that, yes, they can see their hand clearly without an artificial light. The smog covers the sky, which barely allows the sunlight to come through. It colors the sky a dirty orange, brown shading it darker. A woman about twenty-eight years old suddenly stirs, sitting up from her cracked chair. She looks around in confusion before seeing a book open in her lap. She remembers now, falling asleep in her reading chair before making it to bed. The woman, Grace Milton, stretches and places a bookmark between the pages. She lays the book, titled “How to Care for Mythical Creatures,” on the coffee table in front of her. She looks around and sighs. Time to get to work. After getting ready for the day and grabbing a genetically modified protein bar for breakfast, Grace rushes down the stairs of her apartment building. She hits the streets, scarfing down her breakfast as she ignores the boy shouting after her, “Newspaper! Read all about the super hurricane that wiped out California!” Grace quickly passes a television outside a popular restaurant, which blares the news, “...global temperatures are rising, and most of the world’s population has evacuated to cooler climates. If the animal kingdom doesn’t adapt to these...” A single, solitary car roars across the bridge; it is the only one that works in this part of town. Gas is too expensive, especially when doctors are needed more than ever to combat the sicknesses that are spreading like a plague. Instead, most people walk everywhere. Surgical masks are worn by children to protect their fragile immune systems. Few are surviving to adulthood. Grace unlocks the back door to her workplace and enters, locking the door behind her. After prep work, she grabs what she needs and heads further into the compound. Grace carries a smelly bucket to one of the enclosures, not eager to start her work. She always begins with the serpents, which is her least favorite part of being a zookeeper. Pushing open the exterior door, she makes sure it closes before opening the next one. The creatures inside seem to stare into her soul. Grace shivers, avoiding eye contact, and starts giving out the food. The serpents give Grace a basilisk stare while she puts the meals in their enclosures. She avoids their eyes, frightened by their creepy countenance. Then she comes to the last one, holding the biggest serpent in the zoo. Medusa, who eats the most, could probably swallow a human child. She gulps, then places the food in the slot. Medusa remains still, and Grace becomes worried. Just as she is about to open the door and poke the food again, she
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