Yeast [ HD ]

Aris was hailed as a hero, though he never quite lost the guilt. He spent his retirement in a small cottage carved into the side of a sourdough cliff near the Azores, forever haunted by the fact that he’d saved the world, but made it forever gluten-intolerant.

The first sign of trouble was the Staten Island Ferry getting stuck—not on a sandbar, but in a massive, pale-gold floe of fermenting bubbles. By Tuesday, the Atlantic was foaming. By Friday, the "Crust" had formed. A mile-thick layer of aerated, rubbery dough now spanned from Jersey to Portugal. Aris was hailed as a hero, though he

Aris sat in his lab, watching satellite footage of people walking across the ocean. Enterprising teenagers were literally skateboarding to France. But the atmosphere was thickening with CO2, and the world was getting uncomfortably warm, like a giant proofing drawer. "We have to bake it," Aris whispered to his assistant. "The ocean?" she asked, eyes wide. By Tuesday, the Atlantic was foaming

When the heat subsided, the world was different. Shipping lanes had to be carved out with giant serrated saws. The "Great Atlantic Loaf" became the foundation of a new civilization. We didn't live on islands anymore; we lived on the Toast. Aris sat in his lab, watching satellite footage

Should we delve into the between the "Crust-dwellers" and the mainlanders, or perhaps explore the giant seagulls that evolved to eat the world?