This story subverts expectations at every turn. The slow reveal of the true depth of the dystopia is excellent. Here’s how it starts:

Purple sky in morning. Endless promise of warming.

Purple sky at night. We all turn out the light.

I decided to do a thing. Every hour on the hour I’d tell a stranger they’re beautiful. The decision came to me while writing poems in the Greenhouse Cafe. It hasn’t gone well so far.