I step out under a gray sky. The matted overcast intensifies the sun rays. My eyes cringe into a squint. It’s like this year round, assuming it’s been years that have passed. I can’t really tell.
The weather reflects the times. It’s always cloudy and hot. Heat without sunshine. Rain clouds
but no cool breeze. It’s like living in a fuckin oven.
Shit! I kneel down on one knee and say grace,
Alive, awake,
no hunger aches.
For this feast,
thank the beast.
I release a sigh. Every time I sigh after this thought process, I imagine my exhaling breath is the air brakes on a train. One hiss, then a complete stop. Practicing gratitude is a survival skill. Negativity is a dangerous thing. I avoid it at all cost. I don t remember when, what or how it all happened. I’m all I can really remember from the past. I think there was a war then a bomb or no it was a plague and then panic and chaos or maybe someone started a plague on purpose in the war it’s hard to say. Not long after the world went to shit, it was impossible to find anyone else. For days or maybe weeks, I wandered through blizzards of ash trying to find shelter. Occasionally I’d find a non-stagnant water source. I’d take a sip, and then wait awhile; to make sure it wouldn’t make me sick. If it didn’t t, I’d fill up my canteen. I pulled it from a corpse I stepped over during my travels.
Near a small river, I find a tree with a hollow base; and was able to rest there for a few nights. The gray ash finally settled and I could see as far as the land would let me. That's when I saw the beast. I hadn't seen anything bigger than a large rodent since the beginning of my memories.
It’s dusk. A stream of red light pierces through the clouds and runs down his side. The sight of his thick muscle projects pure power, and fear consumes me. His coat looks coarse and sleek like a panther. His eyes are the color of melting gold. I feel a fire in my chest and run. He chases me. I hear his stomping sprint closing in. I dart between the thin pines, hoping to find a place to hide. The temperature declines as the sun descends. I feel like I’m breathing needles. I head towards a slope, hoping to use momentum as an advantage. There is a silver pool at the foot of the hill. Some chemical concoction leftover from before me. His roar leaves a ringing in my ears. Panic surges through my veins. At wit’s end, and all others, I leap into the pool.
In instantaneous regret, I seize in the frigid liquid. The cold sears my skin and takes the breath from my lungs. Completely submerged in the viscous fluid, I climb to the surface like a frantic jellyfish. I emerge gasping and choking between cries of pain. After a few minutes the pain subsides, as does every other feeling. I’m so numb I feel warm. The corners of my mouth drift upward. I float effortlessly in the dense solution. Is this nostalgia I feel? This warmth... I've felt it before. But I can’t place it. Remembering the beast, I withdraw from my euphoria. Glancing over my shoulder, I see him standing at the pool’s edge. My heart beats quietly in relief. He’s not going to enter the pool.
After a while, the beast leaves. The heat of day distorts everything with its haze. Once I’m sure he isn't coming back, I wade out of the pool to explore the terrain. From my feet to the horizon, are dozens of soft ovals; metallic in the brilliant reflection of the sun. It’s parasite .wait, what's the word? Paradise. It’s paradise. I found home again.