Tabitha stood at her wall of windows, looking down.
Through the yellowish haze, she could see people scurrying to their low-level jobs. Cars cramming the street added more to the haze in the air. She vaguely wondered how the people down there could breathe at all.
Up here, the air was slightly cleaner and clearer. The air cars zipped by, also belching fumes, but there were less of them. Not many had the money for an air car. Or to live and work high up in the Towers, above the smog. Tabitha had money. Lots of money.
She had made another $10,000 five minutes ago. She would make at least that again, in the next few minutes. Maybe ten or one hundred times that much. Making money was easy for Tabitha. The right investments, and the money just poured in. She had never really had to think hard about which investments to make. Somehow, she just knew what would do well. Sure, she researched each stock. But, it never took much time or thought.
Sometimes, though, she felt that she was quite poor. That she was actually struggling to make ends meet. When those feelings hit her, she went and invested more money. and got even bigger returns. The feeling always returned. Where did it come from? And why? Did other rich people get the same confusing feelings? She was afraid to ask. Who knew what the competition would make of such a weakness?
She had never been poor. She had had a very comfortable family life; and found her knack for investing money early in life. Now, she made money without even knowing how much. It just kept on coming in. She probably was a billionaire, but never bothered to find out. She could buy anything she wanted. Designer clothes. The latest electronics. And still, the money kept coming in, more than she could ever spend.
It looked like the Earth would soon die of over pollution and it heating up from all of the gases now in the air. She would be one of the few escaping the end of Earth. She was going to Mars. You could no longer see Mars or any other planet in the night skies, because of the covering smog. Mars was still there, though.
A city had been built there. It was ready for all of those who could afford the million dollar space flight to get there, and the expensive housing and equipment needed to survive there until it was terraformed. The domes were expensive to build and to maintain against the harsh Martian winds and sandstorms. Greenery was being shipped along with the people. Terraforming would be a long process.
The billionaires wanted to leave Earth NOW. Leave it to the huddling, barely seen masses below.
Tabitha sometimes wondered what they would do with the Earth. Would they manage to clean it up? Stop driving, and walk places? The oil company execs were coming with the rest of the rich to Mars, after all. Would anyone left bother to extract oil?
Whenever she wondered, Tabitha would quickly make herself forget about their plight and chances of survival. It wasn’t her problem, after all. What else could she do? All that she was ever good at was making money. Not thinking about deeper things.
This is part of a short story. I’m not sure if it can be turned into a novel. Maybe it’s more a descriptive passage.
The idea came to me because I keep on feeling that I am getting POTS of money several times a day. Maybe the Me in another parallel universe is doing this? I thought that I would write about what her life might be like.
There is more to this story/descriptive passage.
To Be Continued…