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Fiction
Welcome To Hellville - Part 2 (2/2)
By Rich Mills

8th October 2040
Prev Page,

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.

Mostly dead or dying, these people are the last remnants of the 20th Century population. People like my mum and dad. It's a sad state of affairs but they have to live life almost permanently masked-up. The name Wombles comes from my childhood as I say, when Mum and Dad had to wear these bloody god awful gas masks all the time. They were surplus stock from when the world thought it was about to be plunged into a bio-chemical war, back in the early years of the 21st Century. Little did they know that it wasn't man they had to watch out for, but the microscopic bugs floating around in the air about them.
Sometimes for months on end at the peak times of annual pandemics they would have to literally spend 24/7 with these things on. Now they have much smaller and discreet filter systems, still as inconvenient to wear, but not so stupid looking. The Wombles name stuck however, as you can see from the photos I've dug-out from my childhood.
Dad proudly wearing his, never afraid of what he was, and quite a proud Womble. (He was actually a Womble activist in his younger days.) Mum, well she always tried to hide the fact that she had to wear the mask by wearing a big floppy hat at all times. Dad used to call her Madam Cholet. Good times, and some precious memories held in these photos. How times change.
Continued Welcome To Hellville - Part 3 By Rich Mills.. Next Page

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