A Dry, Cracked Earth

The only certainty that I hadn’t been alone came from the pulsation in the red sand, alerting me to another ship taking off towards a different home. Of course, this meant I didn’t know if I was alone now, for good, the last on earth. And every time the ground shook, I knew I was closing that gap between the last and the dead.

I clutched my water bottle where the glue from the label used to tack on my hands but like the blue in the sky, that too was dimming in my memory. Temptation to drink was deep in the dry cuts on my lips and when my feet dragged over each other I stopped. I didn’t need to squint anymore to look at the sky, but my eyes still burned. I reached for the silver heart around my neck and squeezed my blistered fingers around the clasp until my skin split. The pain was tedious, but it didn’t matter. I squeezed again, slowly, appreciating that I could still feel anything. The locket opened and I counted, despite already knowing, five extremely ordinary seeds.

I sat on my feet, carefully, not to spill the seeds out of their silver home. I studied them the best I could and hoped for the life that they and the others I planted would have. I wondered what the green from their leaves would look like. Would they begin to colour the ground with anything other than red? I poked my pinky into the water bottle and tipped the bottle until the clear life touched my finger. I brushed the wetness against my lips and closed my eyes as I breathed in the hunger for more and just as quickly breathed it out.

With my nail I scooped out a single seed and spoke the only prayer I knew, begging that someone would hear me. I repeated it and closed my hand around the locket until I heard it click in place. I set down the water and pushed a finger down past the dust until my it was submerged under the earth. I turned over my nail and dropped the seed into its new home. I shook the water bottle, measuring how much was left and dividing it in five. Then I tipped some water into the hole and imagined how good it would feel to be that seed. Had I any tears at my disposal I would have cried. Afraid that if I didn’t keep my feet moving I would stop all together, I picked myself back up.

It was then I noticed a wave of black sand rolling towards me at speeds I had no words for. What used to be a desert of crimson ash became a dark storm in an instant. Amber lighting slashed out of this dust cloud and cracked the ground. Instinct told me to run but there was only fire and hell behind me. Long had it been since I decided to only move forward. I couldn’t change that now. So, I braced the only two items I had left in this world and courage kept me from protecting myself over four helpless seeds and a splash of water. The black cloud rolled over itself faster towards me, the fire lighting split out of the cloud like legs running it forward. If it were to be the last thing I saw, at least it was unlike anything else I had dreamed I would see on earth. It was nearly on top of me and so I took in my last breath and pressed the metal heart towards my own then shut my eyes.

I was prepared for debris, a strike of fire, or simply the wind to knock me backwards but nothing came. Confusion yes, but fear was the first to flood through me. If I had hallucinated this and I couldn’t trust my mind, I was at the mercy of the end. And to that point, so where the seeds. My eyes squeezed together tighter not wanting to face that truth. Never did I think I would be longing for the dull fear I lived with only moments ago. Yet here I was paralyzed, not by the inevitable storm I was supposed to be swallowed up by but my own resistance to adapt to another symptom of dying.

Darkness felt like a friend admits the truth on the other side of my eyelids. A warm hand on my back rubbing love into the wound. Tension around the locket eased and I soon could smell the dew of morning grass. My tongue didn’t retreat away from the thirst this image brought, instead for the first time I softened against the desire and took in the memory for comfort. My eyes opened without me and when my mind caught up all I could focus on was the shadow beneath a large flat stone reaching out of the ground in front of me. I decided it had been there all along even without memory of it moments ago.

As I walked towards the cool shade, I kept a blind attention on the rock until I could reach out and hit my water bottle against it. Real enough for me. Another shudder came from the ground and weakened my legs into a fall where I coughed in the red dust hovering inside the vibration from another departing ship. I held my seat on the hot dry earth and only when the quakes stopped did I pull myself under the protection of this godly rock. I tucked myself as close as I could to the base of this giant and pressed my cheek to its cool belly. A laugh that I had forgotten about rose in my chest and I pressed my forehead to the stone in joy and relief. It felt like ice against the permanent burn in my skin. I reveled in the simple pleasure and laughed harder. Blood, or dust sprayed against my granite hero, but joy stayed in my heart.

I traced the details of the silver locket with my broken nails imagining the life that crafted this piece and wondering whether they thought the job was done after having finished it. Gravity as my friend, I dipped my head down and pulled the chain off from around my neck and set it down. The clasp shrunk and grew with my struggle for its’ open. Then, naturally I counted the seeds again. I counted each hole I made in the earth, and I counted how long it took me to make them. It didn’t discourage me, it encouraged me. One by one and side by side I laid the seeds to grow. I swished the water around and measured even portions for each young soul. The water bubbled up over the depth of the holes and I swam with the gratitude that the seeds had plenty.

I dragged my finger from the left side of the rock, connecting each seedling home, and brought the line around until it touched the right side. While protected by this circle I found the last grain of strength within me and with it snapped the locket at it’s hinge. A moment of silence for its maker. A moment of silence for me. Then, without deliberation, I began to drag the first words of this story against the stone with the gagged edge of the locket. And here I will stay, beside the seeds of tomorrow, under god's hand for this is my home.