Station Eleven

by Emily St. John Mandel

The last time I ate an ice-cream cone in a park in the sunlight. The last time I danced in a club. The last time I saw a moving bus. The last time I boarded an airplane that hadn’t been repurposed as living quarters, an airplane that actually took off. The last time I ate an orange.

bruh I cannot imagine eating a sumo orange for the last time.

Clark had never thought much about airport design, but he was grateful that so much of this particular airport was glass. They lived in daylight and went to bed at sundown.

In my Design Studies class we had a whole unit on airport bathrooms… so essential.