Many moons from now This is my contribution to the IndieWeb Fiction Carnival of September 2026, hosted by James. The topic is “Moonlight”; I’m joining the Carnival for the first time. Many thanks to Juhis and Maartje for feedback on the first draft. You arrive early at the food forest: the sun is only just starting to set. You look forward to spending the evening working outside. Hopefully, it’ll calm you down, after the emotional conversation with Grandma yesterday. After you’ve clocked in for work, you notice your friend and co-worker Sam, who you secretly admire, standing beside a hedgerow. Sam is already deftly picking the raspberries and carefully placing them in one of the trays. Hi Sam! Any word on the new manager? No, they had to drop his application, Sam says, he was assertive, charismatic, and bold; but had little else going for him. Of course, those aren’t the main qualities they look for in a leader. You ready your own tray and start helping Sam with the harvest. Drones are fine for picking apples during the day, when the heat is too dangerous for humans to venture outside anyway. But when it comes to picking raspberries, everyone knows a light touch is best. You pop a few of them in your mouth during picking. They’re great this year, eh? You slowly move along the rows together in companionable silence; the dusk is filled by the calls of owls and other creatures. After the two hour shift, you drop the trays off at the collection area, wave goodbye to Sam, and cycle home. There is a new moon overhead: its crescent is only just visible. The street lights turn on as you approach them, bathing your route in a soft orange glow. Grandma has always approved of Sam as well, you idly think to yourself. Inadvertently, your mind turns back to the conversation you had with Gran, about her growing up during the Fossil Ages. How different life must have been back then. You take in the sight of the twinkling blanket of stars overhead and feel very much alive. A ring of compact wooden houses comes into view. Home already! You pop the bike into the communal shed, and walk the path to your house. On the way, you wave to Ms. Mannings, who is decorating the shed for the celebrations later this night. You still have an hour or so to yourself, but need that time to prepare food for the pot luck. Just as you open the fridge, all the lights switch off, plunging everything into darkness. Using the flashlight on your phone, you check the breaker cabinet: everything looks to be in order. Slightly worried, you go outside to the designated meeting point. Some of your neighbours are already there. Darsha, your local community leader, is busy explaining the situation: Please stay calm everyone! It looks like our thermal battery is still fine, Raven is checking the rest of the local grid. In the meantime, please all go to the shed. Let’s just start the party a little earlier than planned. You follow the rest of your neighbours to the shed, which is now only lit by candles. Apart from the concerned voices of the people there, the night is quiet. In the light of the waxing moon, you can barely see where you’re going. Ahead, Ms. Mannings is lighting extra candles, and instructing everyone on where to put the food they’ve brought. It already smells delicious, and you’re relieved to see there’s more than plenty to go around, even without the stuffed peppers you never got to finish. While you’re about to enter the circle of light surrounding the shed, you feel your foot catching on something and as you stumble forward, the ground rushes up to meet you. You hear a distant scream; the night turns even darker than before, until only blackness remains. Time passes without your knowledge, until you slowly become aware again. In your mind’s eye, smoking pipes fill the horizon, exactly where your house is supposed to be. Everywhere you look, you see concrete, asphalt, and stone: in the buildings, roads, and factories that surround you. What happened to our green neighbourhood? A pale sun tries to pierce the haze. You fly over the countryside, where the situation isn’t much better. Grass, maize, and cattle is all you can see. Where has the food forest gone? Instead, there are only orange fields, surrounded by polluted ditches that contain just enough water for mosquitoes to thrive in. I’m dreaming of the old world Gran told me about, you realise. Although surely, it’s an outright nightmare: this must have been during the Great Avian Flu Pandemics of the ’40s, as you don’t see a single soul outside. Thankfully, you can only imagine what life must have been like in those days. Before the UN Resolution on Rights for all Lifeforms, planet earth was a dismal place. No wonder the whole system came crashing down. Billionaires were worshipped, and everything was polluted by man’s greed. You see a younger version of Gran walking towards you, easily recognisable from her wedding picture. She calls your name and tries to tell you something. In the distance, you hear Sam’s voice. Disoriented, you open your eyes and discover that you’re lying in your own bed. Absently, you note that Raven must have fixed the electricity, because the concerned face of Sam, who is seated beside you, is well lit. I came here as soon as I got the first-aid call! I was so worried, you were covered in blood. But everything’s okay now: the paramedics stitched you up, and the field CT scan came back normal. I promised to take good care of you. Sam gently squeezes your hand and you smile. In the background, you hear the thumping basslines of the Harvest Fest. You look at Sam and feel safe; there’s no place or time you’d rather be right now. Something precious will surely blossom in the aftermath of this fall. Thank you for reading this via RSS! View this article on my website. 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