
Life Is The Bubbles
365 Writing Challenge, Day 44
The city came alive most at night. Well, at least in what its inhabitants had fashioned as night. To keep some semblance of circadian rhythm and a sense of time, the elders long ago had discovered that it was best to follow the sun that rose on the surface.
But, as the city moved deeper and light became more scarce, they found that they needed to create their own sun. Now, a bioluminescent net covered their sky and illuminated the bubble of air hidden on the ocean floor at a depth unseen by cameras. The city’s inhabitants looked mostly like the surface-livers. Although their adaptations allowed them to swim underwater and survive, it was not a comfortable or sustainable way of living. So, they walked and breathed in their underwater city, as if it still touched the sky.
The city was formed by three rings of structures, which were all moveable by design. On the outermost ring stood the homes where the swimmers lived in family clusters, sharing resources and labor. Most of the shelters were built of white fabric and poles and jutted angularly toward the surface. The middle ring contained services, government and communal spaces for recreation and creation. Then a large ring of open space separated the city from its most spiritual space—the Temple. The water people had long ago ceased worshipping a specific deity. Instead, the temple stood as a place where they could meditate, visit with the memories of those who had died, or just escape the day. Like all other structures in the city, the Temple was simply crafted and sparse with its use of materials. The pyramid of fabric grew from the ocean floor and almost touched the top of the air dome. It was the tallest structure in the city and oriented the inhabitants during their travels.
By day, they lived simply, creating art or tools or technology that would sustain or grow their capacity for life. But at night, they played. The bioluminescent sky changed from a singular bright light to a scatted array of pinpricks that flickered as the stars did. Underneath the constellations under the water, the swimmers created music and art and community.
This post is part of my 365 Fiction Writing Challenge. Read my self-imposed rules and other posts here.
Click here for yesterday’s post: The Muse Chronicles — 2
Click here for tomorrow’s post: The Muse Chronicles — 3
