Maybe this isn't a common thought that goes through one's mind

Host: The sky was a bruised grey, swollen with rain that hadn’t yet fallen. The city below looked restless — headlights blinking like thoughts, sirens cutting through the cold November air. Inside a small apartment, the lights were dim, the windows fogged from breath and time. On the coffee table, an open laptop displayed a map — not of roads, but of wildfires, hurricanes, and rising tides.

Jack sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, scrolling through the endless data — the kind that doesn’t shock anymore, just confirms dread. Jeeny stood by the window, her hand pressed against the glass, watching the sky pulse with distant lightning.

Host: It was one of those nights when the future didn’t feel like a horizon — it felt like a weight.

Jeeny: softly, without turning from the window “Ana Kasparian once said, *‘Maybe this isn’t a common thought that goes through one’s mind when considering children, but I think about the ramifications of climate change and how