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    Opting Out: A Story of the Road
    Opting Out: A Story of the Road
    Opting Out: A Story of the Road
    Ebook42 pages38 minutes

    Opting Out: A Story of the Road

    By John Walters

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    About this ebook

    It is the near future, and due to easier availability of alternative energy, fossil fuels are becoming outlawed. Fleeing south along the coastal highway from state government threats to confiscate the gasoline-fueled camper-van he lives in, a homeless man comes across a seemingly-idyllic communal refuge for homeless people set up by a philanthropic dot-com billionaire.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJohn Walters
    Release dateNov 17, 2013
    ISBN9781311925862
    Opting Out: A Story of the Road
    Author

    John Walters

    John Walters recently returned to the United States after thirty-five years abroad. He lives in Seattle, Washington. He attended the 1973 Clarion West science fiction writing workshop and is a member of Science Fiction Writers of America. He writes mainstream fiction, science fiction and fantasy, and memoirs of his wanderings around the world.

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      Book preview

      Opting Out - John Walters

      Opting Out

      By

      John Walters

      Published by Astaria Books at Smashwords

      Copyright 2013 by John Walters

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold reproduced, or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

      This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons places or events - except those in the public domain - is purely coincidental.

      * * *

      Opting Out

      Sanford had just splashed cold water on his face at the tiny sink in his van, dried himself with the slightly rancid blue hand towel, and stepped outside to stretch before checking his e-mail on his old HP laptop when he saw the policewoman coming. She was sauntering slowly along checking the row of dilapidated cars, vans, pickups, and other vehicles, most of whose occupants were still inside wrapped up in their blankets or sleeping bags, speaking a few words here and there, reading registrations and license numbers. The sight of the uniformed officer heading in his direction awakened apprehension within him, as it always had all the long years of his life, whether justified or not.

      When she reached him Stanford wanted to be polite and greet her, but the words froze in his throat.

      Good morning, she said. She was middle-aged, a few decades younger than Sanford, slightly overweight, olive-skinned. She was neither friendly nor aloof, merely businesslike.

      Sanford mumbled an approximation of good morning.

      This has an internal combustion engine, doesn't it? she said. You understand you have just three more months to convert it; otherwise, it will be impounded.

      Sanford found his voice. And then where will I live? It's all I have. I don't have any money to change the engine.

      Have you applied for housing? She was referring to the concrete blocks of dormitories that were being constructed one after the other to take care of the homeless problem. He would be issued a cot and a locker alongside twenty-three other men in a room with common lavatory and dining facilities. And then what? Wait to die. Nowhere to go, nothing to do.

      Not yet, said Sanford.

      The shanty town in which Sanford lived, with its ever-present odor of urine, decaying garbage, and mold, its row upon row of antiquated vehicles, each of which was a home for one or more people, and its tents and shacks constructed of cardboard, discarded lumber, black plastic garbage bags, and other easily-obtained items, was beneath the Interstate 5 freeway in Seattle. Not more than a few blocks away was a cluster of the shelters the policewoman referred to. It would be so easy to give up, check in, and get taken care of...

      Do it soon, the policewoman said. "There's a processing time.

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