A tiny Utopian story written to feel better.

I came to on a chair in the centre of a bright yellow room; my mind is alarmingly clear and although I can’t recall my name, age or anything not pertaining to the yellow room, I know exactly why I’m here. In my hands is a tablet, on the screen the words ‘Pick your issue. Selection can’t be altered’ pulse above a red ‘PROCEED’ button. I touch the button making a lengthy list appear, each entry with a tick box on the right. The list is titled ‘World Issues’ and dated ’16 Nov 2176’. I knew once I stepped out of the bright yellow door, the issue I was about to select would be wiped from the world, as if it never existed. This is the annual Wipe and I’m the Wiper; each year on the anniversary of their arrival, one person could ‘volunteer’. It was an honour, ridding humanity of rapists or hunger or warlords. All it took was everything you were and everything you loved. Wiped out; you and the issue, making our world kinder, softer, safer year by year. Skip a year and all wipes would reset and return with vengeance. We’ve never skipped a year