No Way to Escape It’s just me. The only one left. Global warming is unforgiving. Bones and skulls litter the ground. Every time one crunches under my foot, I wince, like the angry soul will come get me. Maybe that’s comforting though, something left, from the rubble, from the heat. Nothing left, no dogs, no guinea pigs, no cats, no crows, no people. I need a boat, a boat to sail far away from here. But what good is a boat, what good is a boat without water? All I can do is run, run and hope, but what good is running, what good is running if there’s no way to escape? Rachael, 10 Long Island, NY