As Seffy lay on the rush mats, threadbare blanket over her thin frame and Trixie curled into her side, she watched the sky. You couldn't see anything beyond the dense, oppressive blackness of the factory smog, usually, and tonight was no different. Occasionally, especially if there had been a strike or two, the night air would clear and stars would tentatively peep at Terra. On nights like that, she and Trixie would spend all night simply watching. The stars moved and never stayed past sunrise. Then there was the moon – on those nights, Seffy could almost trick herself into believing it was the sun. But when the sun glowed with the same intensity, Seffy's lungs would struggle to function and she'd always find herself on her knees, coughing her guts up, after she had run any sort of distance.
Seffy yawned. Her eyes felt strained and heavy. There was so much wrong with this world, but she just couldn't bring herself to care enough to change it.
YOU ARE READING
Josefine
Ciencia FicciónJosefine Belda Martara and her cousin Beatrix live in a world in which stock is worth more than any human life. Seffy, a cold-blooded murderer, couldn't really care less, but when she finds herself caught up in the biggest event of the century, she...
