“You want to be a what when you grow up? A sassinak? I bet you don’t even know what that is.”

“Yes, I do. They’re like pirates only they come from England.”

I rolled my eyes and put my head in my hands. My little sister; a different stupid dream every day.

As I stared at the floor, I noticed a colourful piece of paper lying beneath our bench. It was the cover from an old magazine, from before the war. It showed a picture of a woman in a pink uniform, a stewardess on an airline maybe. She was young, beautiful. I imagined her waiting for her plane to arrive to take her across the world to incredible places. The picture said one thing to me. Opportunity.

“That’s what I want to be,” I said to my sister. She picked up the paper and stared at it without saying anything.

“Ha,” said a bitter voice. It was Warder Clarke, her club twitching menacingly as she glared down at us through the battered metal cage of her faceguard.

“You won’t be getting off this rock for a very long time. Now, grab those drills and get back to work.”

Originally posted as an entry in the Tuesday Tales 18 contest. The secret word this week was Sassinak.