2072

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At the age of 98, I’m still young enough to educate my great-grandchildren. They ask me questions about the fifties, the decade of change. Those kids can’t believe there’d ever been such a thing as war, or religiously greedy catalysts for it. That bygone time when the colour of your skin affected your chance of survival and happiness. That aeonisphere from the past where every ism was rife, and where mankind wasn’t – well, kind. But things are different now. People see not in colour or sexuality, but in kindness. Society doesn’t need a president or a monarch… it’s neither a dictatorship nor a democracy…people just ARE. And they’ll forever just BE.

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