In a near future that's harsh but not hard to imagine, can a young woman find the power to free herself from the pain of her past without becoming the perpetrator herself?
Introducing... Milly: a woman of the future. Her journey spans twelve birthda...
In the late morning, Ethan's nose wiggles as he wakes. He puts on his shirt and shorts, then finds Milly stretching, hanging from his pull-up bar, in her bra and underwear.
He shrugs. "What're you doing?"
"Cooking rice. It's all you had, weirdo."
Ethan laughs. "You're the weirdo." He approaches.
Still hanging, Milly lifts her legs. "Hold still." She playfully throws her knees over his shoulders, then winces as her belly flexes.
He cradles his arms under her backside. "I've got you." Ethan tries to help her down.
She holds on instead, smiling as he stands there, face between her thighs. "No, I've got you."
Grinning, Ethan dips his eyes.
Milly releases him. "It's ready." She serves them rice sprinkled with grated cheese and catsup.
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"Aren't you going to put on clothes?"
"Is that a complaint?" She sits on his couch.
He chuckles. "Not at all."
Milly looks down at herself. "These are clothes🎵," she says, like a little song.
"You've got me there."
"It got warm in here."
He takes a bite. "You are pretty hot." Ethan winks.
Her lips curl upward. "You're funny." Milly chews. "Is this cheese real? It tastes OK, but the consistency is off." She picks a piece of cheese off her bra.
Ethan laughs. "I can't afford real cheese. Can you?"
"I try not to think that way."
"You know you mumble when you dream?"
"What'd I say?"
"Not words. Just little sounds, like a baby."
Milly nods. "My ex said that, too. But I don't dream imaginary things. I remember."
"Is that normal?"
"I don't know."
They finish eating. Milly gets up, clearing the dishes, but drops his plate near the sink. "I was never good at this."
"No worries." He stands. "I'll get it."
Milly glances at the time. "I should go." She gets dressed.
His forehead creases at her terse departure.
She pecks Ethan's lips goodbye.
"Can I have your number?"
She points. It's already written with dry-erase ink on his refrigerator.
He smiles as she closes the door behind her.
Milly hops into a taxicab. "The parking lot near the nightclub Ambrosia."
"I'm on it!" the AI driver replies.
"Silence," she says.
The meter ticks quietly. The sky is clear but ash dusts the street. Milly stares at the gray swirls outside the taxi window.
