|Not everyone was smiling|
That joyous sound, heard throughout Temperance Valley, echoed down the cliffs which cradled the perimeter of Nova Avalon, and reverberated clear across Lake Regina to the rocky shores of Ultima-Borea.
It was the final chapter in nearly a decade's long process of removing all those neon signs and franchise logos which had littered our precious landscape like a pox.
In our haste to reclaim valuable farmland, the 'car-stop food-huts' and accompanying flashy commercial logos strewn across what was once known as 'suburban sprawl', were deemed better dismantled and used for salvage, than kept as monuments and token reminders of our unconscious and gluttonous past.
How could we have ever eaten that stuff? I can remember eating it too, whatever possessed us?
It was novelty food that blossomed after the end of the second world war, so it's popularity was understandable in those naive and carefree times after the great suffering endured during the previous fifteen years.
By the late-90's and into the 21st Century, these institutions of lower consumption had outlived their usefulness, laden with GMOs (gross!) and other dubious chimeras of alimentary deception (even grosser!).
It has often been wondered whether these 'culinary' institutions were not part of a 'slow kill' extermination process set forth by those who believed our societies were perilously overpopulated?
Be that as it may, the poisons we ingested daily proved one thing for sure, just how resilient and adaptable the human body can be, which ironically also greatly benefitted us during our inevitable rendezvous with destiny.
Now, as I sit here eating a plate of home-made 'Mutton McNuggets' (as I like to call them), I often wonder why anyone would dare settle for anything less?
Future CT Village 5, Nova Avalon. Year: 17 P.T.E.