Progress, Smogress



His eyes began to water, and his throat closed up. The stench was toxic. His knees weakened as his bowels shifted from high alert to absolute panic.

He couldn’t believe it’d end this way. Scientific progress had eliminated cancer, made most planets inhabitable, built him this spaceship to get him there in hours, not years. But no one had yet thought of a solution to the assault a super-sized burrito with pinto beans and ghost pepper salsa could launch on a human body in a confined space.

With the last of his strength, he unlatched the emergency exit door.