It’s 2100 and the world is running out of fresh water. Describe a typical day.
We wake up every morning wondering whether or not today will be the dreaded day – will there still be water or will today finally be the end of all days?
The radio is turned on first thing in the morning and we hear the Prime Minister announce that the water has not yet dried up.
A weight is lifted off our shoulders; we get one more day.
We travel down to the part of the St. Lawrence River we’ve situated ourselves at, armed with three large canteens and three rifles. People have become desperate for any extra water they can get their hands on and we’ve lost quite a few members of our group because we failed to protect ourselves. We swore we wouldn’t make that mistake again.
The river’s water supply is dwindling, but I can tell it’s still got another two weeks left in it at minimum.
We fill the canteens to the brim and will use one for today, and save two for when the fatal day arrives.
We should be okay if we keep going like this, but one can never be sure. I mean who actually thought the world would run out of fresh water?