This story is part of Imagine 2200: Climate Fiction for Future Ancestors, a climate-fiction contest from Fix.
* * *
“Your great-grand-abo 10 times removed was the last of the Danakil Afar,” I say, settling back against the cushion. “And the first to construct the towers.”
A breeze passes in through the open door and dries the sweat on our brows. Tonight is the first time the temperature has been cool enough to leave the windows open, and the rooms fill with the humid aroma of the day’s harvest.
“Before the Great Drying swept across the land, the Afar were a nomadic people of the Horn, shepherds mainly, who kept to themselves. Afterward, they became builders and salt traders. Your great-grand-ahde 10 times removed came from the highlands.”
Senait fidgets. Matters of ancient history hold little interest for her. She asks to hear about the Cloud Weavers instead.
“Let your ahde finish, little one,” abo Limi gently chides. “It is important that you know where you come from.”
But I smile down at my daughter. I draw her hair away from her eyes and ask, “How do you ... Read more