#22: The San Francisco That Could Have Been
I’m running through Lands End. It’s 8AM on a winter day. Cool mist hangs in the air, and the gravel crunches under my running shoes. I’m looking at my Apple Watch, checking the time as I run down the hill, past the Cliff House, looking at the Pacific as it shines in the morning sun like a pool of liquid silver stretching to the horizon. California is good. I hear the waves crashing, and the air softly smells of salt and pines. To my left, I see the Pacific Towers: eight fifty-five story glass obelisks stretching into the sky, all connected by a public park up top, six hundred feet in the air. A marvel of modern engineering, only paralleled by a few buildings in Shanghai. The year is 2030. I’m fortunate to rent a one-bedroom in the Pacific Towers for $2700 a month. I live on the fourteenth floor.
Read this short story on my website.