I WANT YOUR ROOF
LONDON, 01 JULY 2043
The first streets only became impassable in 2023. By that point the Thames had doubled in width. The Great 2036 Flood of London was the turning point – that was when the pleasure turned to fear: the romance of the river turned to the horror of isolation. It grew from the lower lying areas within the city. At what point they became lakes and then rivers no-one knows. The water did not discriminate between businesses, homes, parks, or transport; it did not care whether you were old, young, poor or rich. It enveloped everything that touched the ground eventually. Suddenly we realized how slow rowing was. Slowly we realized how few foods grow in water. Gradually we realized how little fun water everywhere could actually be, when there was not a drop to drink. But then we rediscovered what was above us all the time: our roofs. The lower ones were snapped up quickly as docking points for the city transportation boats. But the higher ones became the heart of the new city. Each one began to reflect the nature of the tenants below. Some were more practical: places to power the city, places to grow food, farm animals, process waste. But soon a new type of space developed: communal roofscapes, or ‘Scapes as they became known. No one really knew what was public or private on the ‘Scape. Here one could rest and party, tweet and think, sleepover and trade, or just kiss and make up. Some came just to enjoy the view, to smoke up or just to wait. But it was the sense of being a part of the collective that made them work. That was where the new politics began.
Our beds are empty two-thirds of the time. Our living rooms are empty seven-eighths of the time. Our office buildings are empty one-half of the time. (R. Buckminster Fuller)
Our roofs are empty all of the time. It’s time we gave this some architecture.