This story is part of Imagine 2200: Climate Fiction for Future Ancestors, a climate-fiction contest from Fix.
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The boat jostled and everything went sideways. I flew to Mom’s side, worried that her wheelchair would tip over and hurt her, but she had an iron grip on one of the many grab bars scattered throughout our boat home. The sound of things crashing around us quieted as the rocking abated, but my stomach was in knots from the suddenness of it.
“Was that an earthquake?” I asked. Mom shook her head, none the wiser.
“You stay here,” I told her. “Let me just check that there’s nothing sharp on the floor.” Mom nodded, her eyes wide and hand still clutching at her chest. We have had fewer earthquakes since the Decree was passed, which slashed public and private funding to the fossil fuel industry and redirected that capital toward renewable energy solutions. It also implemented social programs to minimize and contain the effect of climate change on island nations like ours and funded humanitarian relief efforts for those left houseless from climate-related disasters. Mom grew up in th... Read more