Climate Change

Photo by Cassie Matias on Unsplash

They sat in the canteen of McMurdo Research Station, neither of them daring to make eye contact. No one had spoken for several minutes, the air between them empty and lifeless.

He studied their reflection in the stainless steel lunch tray in front of him. It was over, he could sense it. The passion that once consumed them had now run cold, unlike the Antarctic ice caps slowly melting around them. 

“We can’t be together anymore,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” he said.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” she said.

“It’s Craig, isn’t it? You’re sleeping with Mr. Blonde Wonderboy, right? I should’ve known transferring to this godforsaken place was a bad idea,“ he said.

“I was honest with you,” she said.

“How long until I can transfer off this iceberg?” he said. 

She looked at him. He knew the protocols. “Three months. Sleep in your own bunk.”

He stood up to bus his tray. His other prospects were grim.