Does this image depict another planet’s largest metropolis, where intergalactic commuters buzz in every morning from their homes on nearby planets or suburban moons? Or is this the Earth of the future, where the skies have become more convenient for travel than the car-choked highways of the past?
Sky-High Towing Service:
I grew up far from here—a town so small
That most folks still used ground-cars to and fro.
But now I work the skyport. I’m on call.
Whenever traffic snarls, then out I go.
I fly a skimmer—small, but just the thing
To help when some guy’s anti-grav breaks down.
I shift to hover, walk out on the wing,
Hook up my tow line, guide his skycar down.
The money’s good; it takes a bit of nerve
To work a half-mile up outside the ‘car.
They sometimes tip me more than I deserve,
But that, I guess, is just how some folks are.
They all love flying high in luxury—
But they’re ashamed they can’t look down on me.