The Spy Who Loved Eveline – Excerpt No. 45

Instead of wasting his time, he looked out the window and barely recognised the surface. In his youth flights were interesting, as it gave him a birds-eye view of the Earth’s ecology. One moment he could be looking at ships over the ocean, another forests, cities, plains and mountains. It was the latter that always humbled him, because when on the ground the Rockies made you feel small and insignificant, but that flipped when viewed from the air.

Now there was little to see other than a dense rusty fog. When the cloud dissipated enough to see through it the terrain itself was different. He remembered vivid blues, greens, and browns, and gold, now it was decayed and dull. The world is dying.