The Jetpacks We Were Promised
by Daniel Roop
sprouted cobwebs
in the basement
of the techlord’s subtropical
winter home.
A proprietary hoard,
hundreds
leaned
in dark corners, unused spares
beneath
an unflown sky,
the future’s gleam muted
under a blanket
of dust.
Down the mountain,
alongside
the effluent river,
two village girls shared
their scavenged
bicycle. Rusted frame,
the color
of dried blood. Tires
worn slick
as glass. Seatless,
so they stood
barefoot, soles tough
as bone on serrated
pedals.
They took turns
riding, riding
in circles,
squinting their eyes
through swirling dirt.
They dreamed
in tandem
in alluvial clouds
of the impossible
blue
above.
Daniel Roop is a member of the HWA and SFPA. His speculative work has appeared or is forthcoming in publications including Apex Magazine, Flash Fiction Online, Cast of Wonders, Cosmic Horror Monthly, and others. He finished in the top ten three consecutive years at the National Poetry Slam and has performed across the country including features at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe.
