Fragments of Tomorrow

Fragments of Tomorrow

Contemporary · 336 pages · Published 2024-04-16 · Avg 3.8★ (6 reviews)

After a humiliating layoff announced via a leaked Slack screenshot, forty-one-year-old Leena Kapoor says yes to an offer from Theo Morales, a former friend she stopped speaking to twelve years ago: help him turn Chicago's shuttered Harbor Science Center on the lakefront into a glossy "future lab" that can attract donors and attention. If Leena can coax brands and city hall into believing in the project, Theo can keep the building out of a storage developer's portfolio, and she can salvage the fragments of a career that once promised to change how cities work.

Missing from the "lab" is Aria Chen, a documentarian and neighborhood organizer who built a devoted following with intimate "future diary" videos recorded in the planetarium's stale dark, and then vanished after posting a stream of chopped clips that ended mid-sentence. With nineteen-year-old Davon Price, the newest intern and Aria's most ardent fan, Leena spins up a storytelling campaign around Aria's last footage — bus transfers, water taxi schedules, a key card that opens no door — rocketing the project into think-piece territory and catching the eye of foundations and a streaming platform. Too bad Theo forbids Leena from digging into what happened to Aria, citing a precarious agreement with the board, a mayoral photo op, and the risk of scaring off a billionaire whose name would look excellent on the south facade.

As Davon hunts for Aria's traces through service tunnels, mothballed exhibits, and a hand-wound orrery ticking behind a locked workshop door, and as Leena is drawn, against better judgment, toward both Theo and Jonas Leto, the resident preservation architect and last person to see Aria on the Green Line platform at Cermak-McCormick Place, the two start noticing patterns that feel like instructions: VHS cassettes labeled with dates that have not arrived, a donor ledger stapled to a stack of eviction notices, a cracked VR headset that only plays an apartment in Pilsen at golden hour, a box of pigeon bands stamped with years that do not exist. What they uncover collapses the clean borders between public good and private mythology, between content and care, between a city you think you are building and a city that is busy building you.

You may think you have a plan for tomorrow, but what if tomorrow has already written its plan for you?

Amelia Bishop is a writer and educator based in Milwaukee. Born in 1985 in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, she studied sociology and urban studies at the University of Minnesota and earned an MFA from Portland State University. She worked for nearly a decade as a grant writer and community arts organizer in Chicago and the Twin Cities before turning to teaching. Her stories and essays have appeared in regional journals and online outlets, and she has been awarded residencies at Ragdale and Tofte Lake Center. When not writing, she leads neighborhood library workshops and bikes along Lake Michigan year-round.

Ratings & Reviews

Arturo Benet
2025-08-12

Notes from a cautious reader.

  • Smart premise with vivid artifacts, some momentum wobbles after the first big media bump.
  • Leena compelling, Theo and Jonas underlit in a few key scenes.
  • Chicago setting sharp, repetition around the donor courtship.
  • Ending calibrates ambiguity and hope, but the streaming subplot feels familiar.
Lila Townsend
2025-05-30

If the tonal blend of civic wonkery and haunted infrastructure in Mara Levin's City Archive Blues worked for you, and you liked the mosaic intimacy of The Transit Notes, this will satisfy in a similar way. Morales and Kapoor's campaign reads like an art-space case study crossed with a neighborhood myth, and the Chicago specificity is textured without turning into a guidebook.

Malik O'Rourke
2025-02-21

Under the professional polish beats a book about stewardship: who gets to narrate a place, who capitalizes on it, and who gets erased while the press release goes live. The recurring ledgers, mislabeled years, and the orrery clicking in the dark make a chorus about maintenance over spectacle, about content versus care, and about living inside "a city busy building you." It left me mulling the price of visibility when visibility is what keeps the lights on.

Priya McAdams
2024-10-09

Leena is deliciously complicated, sardonic, strategic, unexpectedly tender with Davon when the Aria mythology threatens to tilt into conspiracy. Her push-pull with Theo and the wary orbit around Jonas feel like adult messiness, not plot convenience.

What surprised me most is how Aria, absent from the page, becomes the most vivid presence through voice, notes, and the way other people speak around her. Dialogue carries subtext without grandstanding, and moments at the Green Line platform mentioned in the synopsis are handled with restraint rather than theatrics.

Edwin Cho
2024-07-18

Form mirrors mission: presentations, grant decks, and clipped transcripts puncture the chapters, and the rhythm alternates between brisk meetings and echoey night walks in the Harbor Science Center. The blend is inventive, especially the "future diary" fragments, but the middle third circles the same donor-meeting dilemma and stalls. Leena's sharp internal monologue lands, yet scene transitions occasionally feel like hard cuts that drop the emotional temperature.

Nora Velasquez
2024-05-02

A sleek, slightly haunted portrait of Chicago's lakefront science center becoming a "future lab," where leaked Slack shame, donor chess, and odd artifacts like VHS tapes with tomorrow's dates quietly raise the stakes for a city deciding what it wants to be.

Generated on 2025-09-07 09:04 UTC