COVIDYSTOPIA- January 31, 2041 (Somewhere in City 2, Valles Marineris, Mars)
The drones were at his heels. He ran faster. It must have been 44°C then. He had been running for a good 20 minutes through the open fields. He had lost his lungi in the bushes as he frantically made his way to the fields. His legs give up and he slowly faded out, helplessly looking at the police drones. He woke up screaming in cold sweat.
The wife was gently snoring next to him. He was still in City 2 / Valles Marineris. He silently got up and walked over to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Couple of decades had passed since he was chased down the burning fields, during the lockdown summer. Many from his village had perished from the sickness and the famine that year. The nightmares. He was due for his next therapy session with FNH. He gulped down the water.
He grabbed a cold beer and went out to the plexidome terrace to watch the night sky. Phobos was up there. He couldn't spot the Earth. He sat down in the wicker chair and closed his eyes. So much had changed. His village. His country. His planet. He fell asleep again.
(Disclaimer – this is fiction, exploring the what-ifs, post pandemic. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is coincidental!)