Long before she was born, the area was known as Riverside. That and Edgefield and Lakeland were the most expensive neighborhoods in the world to own property. Then came the war so long ago. No more manor houses, or river-fronted condominiums, or flying cars, or convenience stores. No more chauffeurs and robot butlers or genetically engineered servants or meals in bed. Neblae rode her Garundal through the edge of Firetown. Gurrank was a good Garundal because he had a nice smooth gait while running. He had a pleasant temperament, too. Personally, she hated the colored plume that marked him as belonging to the Firetown Trow tribe. It it difficult to go against the tribes decisions, though. She was in for it as it was. She had strayed to far towards Trashtown, the last human settlement hereabouts, and night was falling. She kept a wary eye on the radiation counter in her saddlehorn. She was very resistant to cell damage from radiation, but didn't want to find her limits the hard way. She found a place she wanted to stop at, while looking for shelter for the night. She had seen a picture in an old book with plastic pages. It was sixty or more years old, but the pictures were still bright. All books stopped being made more than sixty years ago when human civilization fell. The pictures remained to tell the tale. She looked around and tried to imagine the past glories. Some of the flying cities still flew. She had heard that most were ghost-towns floating untended above the world they ruled. She tried to imagine in her mind's eye the clouds of flying cars, and tall buildings glistening in the sun. Gurrank's feet kicked up clouds of parched dust in the still afternoon air as she ran him through a graveyard. It seemed the world had become one, now. At least for humans. Her people were strong and she was mostly happy. She had food and a future. She resolved to teach her children to remember the past glories of what was. No one could tell know, just looking at rubble, that the vast and mighty once held sway there. Now a new people were on their way to glory. Inspired by the poem Ozymadios. Media is Poser 6 and Vue 5 Easel