This place was just as she remembered. Of course it was. Such places didn’t change. Carolyn breathed deeply within the tiny stand of forest, registered the sting of icy air, the fragrance of damp foliage.
“Carolyn. Over here.” She focused. Time was not to be squandered on useless contemplation.
Gordon had found it – the glitch in the support system that had raised the alarms. An easy fix this time.
With a whoosh the space elevator rose, carrying them above the control centre, above the Eco-dome. back to their orbiting habitat. Below them, the wasted earth, dotted with other distant domes, diminished.
This is my offering for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers. Each week, Rochelle’s chosen photo prompt inspires around a hundred writers to contribute 100 word stories.