The earth’s dry powder is unable to encourage growth of any kind. Oh, how I dream of the way it must have been. Now all the inhabitants of this planet stay alive by raiding the old warehouses where the tins of food made by our ancestors are still stored.
Here in our world that we call the Wasted Planet upon the filled mountains of trash created many,many years ago, we go about surviving. It rains, but the ground never gets wet. The moisture evaporates before it hits the dirt. The storms rage. The wind is so fierce that it dries the earth before any of the precious water collects.
This world has been neglected and unloved for too long.
So ..... this is why I’m telling my story.
I am a traveler, a dreamer. I must find the answer. I must save the world.
My questions are simple. How can I make this world a better place? Is there something that I can do to change the way things are?
Relbbog picked himself up off the dusty ground. He tried to clean himself up the best he could but spit and a dirty rag was all he had to work with. The pain was intense and Rel, as his friends called him, took it in stride.
To Save the Wasted Planet