“Where was this photo taken, Mom?” asked the 30 year old woman while they were sitting at Robert’s café.
“Oh, that is New York City.”
“People lived above the ground?”
“Yes, dear, we did. This was a long time ago. Back when the air was still breathable.”
“What do you miss the most?”
The mother closed the rusted tin box where the memories of a previous life struggled to be remembered and looked up. A cold white lonely lamp, Robert kept on with the help of a generator, lit the cave’s corridor dimly.
“To look up and see the sky.”