Mara: Do you think we’ll have flying cars?
A giant billboard stands at the edge of town.
Bright colors.
Perfect smiles.
Shining towers reaching into the sky.
Across the top:
WELCOME TO TOMORROW
The paint is already fading.
Mara and Chibi sit in the tall grass beneath it.
The summer afternoon stretches endlessly around them.
Wildflowers sway.
Cicadas hum.
The future watches from above.
Mara studies the painted city.
Rocket ports.
Moving sidewalks.
Glass towers.
Flying cars.
Everything clean.
Everything perfect.
Everything waiting.
Mara: Do you think people really believed this?
Chibi shrugs.
Chibi: Maybe.
The billboard creaks softly in the wind.
Near one of the support posts Mara notices something.
Old newspaper clippings.
Yellow with age.
Pinned beneath rusting nails.
The first one reads:
THE FUTURE IS ALMOST HERE
1950
Mara laughs.
Then she finds another.
THE FUTURE IS ALMOST HERE
1952
Another.
1954
Another.
1956
The same headline.
The same promise.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The laughter fades.
Mara: That’s weird.
Chibi nods.
Because it is.
Every article promises:
- miracle inventions
- new technologies
- better lives
- brighter futures
Always coming.
Never arriving.
The billboard groans overhead.
Then Chibi notices something else.
Names.
Hundreds of them.
Carved into the steel supports.
Children’s names.
Dates.
Initials.
Generations of children sat beneath the same sign.
Looking toward the same tomorrow.
Waiting for the same future.
Mara traces one of the names with her finger.
Mara: They all came here.
A warm summer breeze moves through the grass.
For a moment Mara notices another layer of paint beneath the billboard.
An older advertisement.
Much older.
Different picture.
Same message.
COMING SOON
The words suddenly feel much larger than flying cars.
Larger than cities.
Larger than inventions.
Tomorrow.
Soon.
Later.
One day.
Always one step away.
The sun begins sinking toward the horizon.
The painted city glows gold.
Almost real.
Almost close enough to touch.
Mara: Do you think they’ll build it someday?
A long silence.
Chibi watches the city of tomorrow fading into sunset light.
Finally:
Chibi: I think they have to.
Mara looks at him.
Chibi shrugs.
Chibi: Otherwise everybody’s been waiting for nothing.
The billboard falls into shadow.
The city disappears into darkness.
The promise remains.
Waiting.
Always waiting.
🜍 Month 6 · Pulp Cthulhu Noir
🜍 Week 2 — Tomorrowland
🜍 Every generation inherits tomorrow. Nobody ever arrives there.
If you remember what this felt like —
you already know the dream.
The city of tomorrow.
The miracle invention.
The promise that everything would finally make sense.
Step back into it.
Or keep waiting for a future that never quite arrives.
👉 https://startplaying.games/gm/dunchan
Want to go deeper?
Then follow the old advertisements.
Past the billboards.
Past the model cities.
Past the promises painted brighter than reality.
The dossiers are waiting.
Tomorrow is still coming.
👉 https://www.patreon.com/c/mythveilchronicles_bydunchanhuntergames