Exercise 3 - wolvzor
The only ships that habited the sunlit side of Earth were the hydroponics bays upon the remnant aircraft carriers of the nations of yesteryear. Indentured servants and prison mates tended to the crops, stuck in the never-ending morning heat of Sol. Reprieves were few: The steel of the decks would grow glowing hot and smoldering, and the carriers would speed up to catch the bitter cold of waters untouched by Sol for days – if the words had meaning anymore.
Karen's ship remained on the opposite side of Earth at all times, keeping the temperature at a bearable level for human survival. It was a constant temperature, only wavering slightly while moving closer to the poles. The early evening air wafted cool and salty onto Karen's lips, and she licked the tang off as she glanced at the shore of the California Crater. Ground Zero of The Collision: the asteroid that struck Earth at just the wrong angle to stop ninety percent of all rotation.
Sol cooked the soil, while night froze the living. It became apparent that life among cities and land was a foolish proposition, and the only way of survival was to take to the sea. Karen's finger twitched, her hand's memory of the Desert Eagle she held on Day One, protecting her ship from the flood of humanity pouring onto the piers. She wasn't proud of her bullets streaking through the air, finding their mark into naked flesh, but the small fishing boat couldn't handle the weight of them all.
No ship could.
(I may do the other sentences tomorrow if I have the time :D)