The warm rain spattered Eric’s face and dripped from his eyebrows and newly-shaven chin. It was the last time he’d ever feel it.
Unless, of course, they would let him outside the City once in a while. That wasn’t likely, though. He’d read enough, heard enough, to understand that life in the City was completely self-contained, sealed for everyone’s safety and happiness. Eric failed to see how anyone could be happy in a place without rain or wind or rich, dark soil.
Not that anyone had a choice.
Eric twisted another golden tomato from the vine and placed it gently in the bucket. He hated the thought of leaving behind the still-green ones that were growing fat beneath his fingers. It had crossed his mind more than once to leave before the transports arrived in the morning – to blend into the wilderness with the Pariahs, living off the land and the belongings of those who were unfortunate enough to find themselves at the sharp end of a blade in the dark of night.
But no. Eric wasn’t made of that stuff, and he knew it. He’d board the transport with his scanned, pre-approved luggage and settle into utopia with his family. If he was lucky, it would only be for a while. He had no intention of spending his life in a preprogrammed bubble.