Disclaimer: I am not a writer. I just happened to get inspired and whip this together over the last 45 mins. Let me know what you think!
The sun hung low in the late afternoon sky and the cool wind carried a bite not felt since the end of spring. Chirstian looked down at his filthy, aching hands for a moment. He hated digging in the cold, and with dusk quickly approaching on a long September day with no notable finds, it was about time to throw in the towel.
Christian rose to his feet. He stood atop a spectacular 30 foot mountain of trash - part of a discarded mountain range that stretched for miles along the outer wall at the southeastern quadrant of citadel 117.
These hills used to be teeming with other diggers like himself, in search of treasures mistakenly (or purposefully) cast out by individuals inside the well guarded monstrosity that loomed before him. However, as the efficiencies afforded by low time preference proliferated inside these modern day marvels of human ingenuity, products became more reliable, citizens became more likely to repair and reuse, and regular dumps of waste became fewer and further between. What was formerly a bustling effort of thousands of non-hodlers rising and sinking like curious meerkats into the jagged, man-made landscape, was no more. A lack of citadel waste meant a lack of salvageable goods, and it was only a matter of time before bands of non-hodlers began migrating away from the wall to try their hand at hunting and gathering.
Defeated, Christian began navigating his way down the foul-smelling heap carefully. He’d spent the past few days on this particular mound and with the results he’d had (or lack thereof), it was likely time to relocate tomorrow morning. The idea of catching up with this morning’s recent decampment crossed his mind, but quickly vanished. They were long gone, his tracking skills were non-existent, and even if he DID catch up - his survival skills in the wild left plenty to be desired. He would only further encumber them.
“Ah… God damn it.” Glancing around, Christian realized his wandering mind had allowed him to stray from his forged path down to flat ground. How long had he been wandering? Looking back upwards, he couldn’t spot where he’d deviated. At this point he couldn’t be bothered. It would maybe be five more minutes of hurdling junk before hitting the trails below.
Swinging his leg over some crumpled metal, he gently eased himself over and tried to find the ground with his toes. That’s when he felt something sharp slide through the thin sole of his shoe like butter and begin to pierce his foot. Christian instinctively pulled back, but the sudden weight transfer caused him to lose his balance and begin to tumble. In a last ditch effort to minimize what was sure to be a painful fall, Christian pushed off the mound with his opposite foot and attempted to catapult himself towards a nearby broken couch.
It was a mildly successful effort. The landing resulted in a loud thud on some surprisingly firm cushions, and his shin bounced firmly off the underlying wood of the arm rest. Lying on his back, he drew his leg towards his abdomen and took a few deep breaths while rubbing what was sure to be a painful bruise. Christian looked up at the pile of aluminum and steel that earned him his new lumpy shin, and in the fleeting moments of sunlight, something caught his eye…
Hanging precariously from the edge of a small bedroom dresser was a distinct gold glint in the form of a necklace with a long medallion. Gold had largely lost its value in the wake of hyperbitcoinization throughout the 40’s and 50’s, but still retained some ornamental and industrial use cases. Perhaps he could barter with some of the remaining citadel leeches back at the camp. With his barter skills he could likely trade it with one of the remaining citadel leeches back at the camp. A small battery pack would give him enough juice to jump online for a little while to see what was new inside the walls. Living vicariously through citadel dwellers was one of the few joys in life left these days.
Christian pulled himself upwards and reached out, snatching the chain. He rotated it around to the clasp and squinted to see the engraving. 14 karat. Hmm, not bad - at least the day wasn’t a total waste at this point. Turning his attention to the other end of the chain, he noticed that it wasn’t a medallion, but instead a USB drive. As it was lifted slowly to his face, Christian’s pupils dilated as he read the white words printed on the front of the device:
OPENDIME
---> Bitcoin
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
… to be continued?
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