Humanity
To The Shark
She’s insecure, she’s scared, too timid to go on. A figure shrouded in a dark halo of serene deep blue, the depths of the ocean contained in one loney aura. She can feel the weight of it, pushing and pulling like a seductive tide, rocking her to sleep, jolting her awake when its cold fingers claw its way into her throat. She wants to understand it, to control it, but its crushing pressure that has no physical mass is too complex, too wild to own.
Olivia GyuranPublished 3 years ago in EarthHunger
My perception blurs as the cold water flows around me. Eyes dead ahead, watching every movement with eager anticipation. Small fish bump into me, but I pay no attention to their tiny bodies. I can feel the burning need to fuel my body as my insides scream for food.
Mel E. FurnishPublished 3 years ago in EarthThe Children of Man Made Climate Change
"But how can you sanction bringing a little girl... a child full of hope and naive belief into a world... when that little girl grows to be a young woman and looks you in the eyes and says, ‘You knew all along, didn’t you?’ What do you say then?" These are the haunting words of Philip Ettinger's character Michael in Paul Schrader's unforgettable film First Reformed. The entire film, this scene, in particular, has stuck with me since I first viewed it in 2018. Climate Change wasn't a regular thought in my mind until 2015 - the year I graduated high school. I was eighteen years old entering community college with a good feeling about the future, being somewhat confident in our political institutions, and believing everything would work out in the end. I'm twenty-four now and none of these thoughts apply to me anymore. The future is seeming bleaker and bleaker with each passing day, my political opinions have only been pushed further from inaction, and I highly doubt the world will "work this out" before our end. This begs the question: Is it morally responsible to have children in an age of incoming catastrophe?
End of the World
We were the only survivors. There were 62 of us that survived. One minute the world was there above us, that is before the silence hit. I was working as a plasma scientist at the Homestake Mine in South Dakota. The mine is home to one of the largest underground xenon detectors in the world. The detector is literally buried a mile beneath the Earth in the Black Hills of South Dakota. The mine was built to study dark matter and hunt for particles that could help explain the “Big Bang” event that gave birth to our universe. The experiments we conduct are spearheaded by an 815-pound xenon detector primed for particle detection deep below the Earth.
JENNY A. TIBBETTSPublished 3 years ago in EarthLiving Heirloom
Our gentry neighborhood was a target for plunderers who were gathering anything that sparkles and shines. This group of wayward civilians terrorized city after city, bombing homes and lighting fire to everything in their path. Our subdivision had already been hit once before, but not destroyed like other neighborhoods in our city. We were able to live in our house, even though it sustained some damage to the roof, but it wouldn’t survive a second ambush.
Abandon
The planet below lay barren and desolate. The pictures I had studied so well showed a planet made of endless blue oceans and lush green forests, instead there was nothing. Red desert that seemed to act as a warning to all potential visitors.
Laura GallaherPublished 3 years ago in EarthEmpire of Dust
The dust cloud stretches over the dreary, ominous evening sky. At least I believe it is the evening since the hour of darkness is the norm, and the warm breeze brushing against human skin is a luxury. I take my daughter's hand as we both march towards the dim light sparked from candles like seas of stars surrounding the old wretched willow tree. As we get closer, the crowd begins to gather. Our hands tightly entwined while I navigate towards the front of the crowd, yet as the sea multiplies, we are crushed in its folding arms. Rest upon brittle tree branches lies a group of vigilant eyes, red sultry lips, and large prying ears that act as presidents of this holy event. They are known as the watcher, the guardians of Dominion.
Nutchaya NoradechanuntPublished 3 years ago in Earthchapter 40
I know I will fall short of this record, I don't have the words and you don't have the imagination. I remember the beginning when they locked people in their homes using fear against an invisible enemy.
Matthew cairdPublished 3 years ago in EarthSisters of the Resistance
Sisters of the Resistance They gathered for the evening, flicking through the channels, one after the other. Nothing had changed. It was what it always was. It was the shameless broadcasting of lifeless black bodies, lying dead in the streets, attacked by riot police because, well, just because. See, things get worse before they get better, some say. Why can’t a brother or sister eat a sandwich in peace or drive down the goddamn street and just be. I worry that one day they will find us. We moved the resistance underground more than two decades ago. Luckily the ones that used to keep this land safe, still keep us safe and hidden away. We moved our resistance below the surface into a system of secret caves. This is how we have survived. Our lives matter, you know.
Victoria LeighPublished 3 years ago in EarthTo Juneau, With Love
Eating wild garlic was considered an act of treason. By the laws of the Manzanato Order, and the Universal Constitution of Submission to Live, the harshest of punishment would be enforced for any person, family, colony, or stratum who produced, consumed, or harvested an unregulated food source. And everything in the world’s seven sectors was regulated—from the edge of the Americas to the Yukonian Islands and the Africonga. Even the barren Arctic Islands were regulated.
Kemari HowellPublished 3 years ago in EarthThe Heart Shaped Locket
Jacob found the heart shaped locket in the obsidian vase. How did it get there? This was part of her. This was a piece of Jacqueline. This is the way she wanted it. She was always leaving treasures to remind you of her. Only her. Just her. He couldn’t think outside the box. The box with the deep dark raven colored vase in it. This was all that was left after the rain of lightening barreled down destroying anything and everything leaving nothing but the smokey sky. The obsidian cave had saved him and now he knew that the vase was simple grace.
Sailor Lee PalmerPublished 3 years ago in EarthThe great leap
It started with just a glitch, one here and one there. Cities were falling apart as chaos struck the world. It was like a bunch of mini earth quakes leading up to the big one. The moon was abnormally big with an unusual glow as the days got hotter and the sunsets possessed a rare combination of colors. Despite the beauty of it all, it wasn’t normal. Something just didn’t feel right. Maybe it was for the better. Time became timeless. Strange events hit left and right. It felt as if the world was preparing for a huge shift. One where very few could see the brighter side. Everyone had become less human and more robotic. Disassociation was the new norm. Happiness and laughter became a distant memory that grew so fond yet seemed so far away as the timeless days summoned a plethora of changes. Times that were only spoken of, yet rarely believed. Never seen before.
Humanity Rose 🌹✨🦄Published 3 years ago in Earth