Safe from the high winds, the fallen
walls, the sheets of sky collapsing all around—afoot, he carried it in his
arms, wrapped in an old coat. It was a fine relic; the last vase of its kind to
have survived the turmoil intact.
The earth shook every so
often, objects rained at random from all directions at once, balls of fire
flared from underneath. Bright and warm like springtime blossoms, he thought,
and hugged the vase closer to his chest.
Fewer people ran in the
streets these past few days. He saw none today. Could these ruins be called
streets? Their ashen breath pushed through his pores. Even the scrawny alley
cats had vanished.
Through the shadows he
slipped, taking cover when danger loomed. Though most shelters could not be
trusted.
The air has been murky for weeks. The once familiar city
had turned into a labyrinth. He might have already crossed it from east to
west, north to south, a few times over. Or has he been circling the same
neighbourhood? Whenever he found any water pooled in the wreckage, he would
suck the drops dry. He had yet to find any today.
Exhausted, he ducked into a
pit and lay on the debris-littered ground; eyelids shut before his head met the
ground, the vase cradled within his emaciated, curled-up body. His once
spotless suit was now but rags splotched grey and brown, loosely hanging on
him.
Had he fallen into deep sleep
or dozed off for a few minutes, he could not tell upon awakening. He peered out
from under the struck-down tree that roofed over the pit. It is possible that
nobody beyond these veils of acrid smoulder had endured, he thought.
Was the vase still unharmed?
He unwrapped it with a feathery touch. In the dim light his eyes followed the
intricate, bejewelled ornaments. He brushed his fingers across the silky
design, lingering on the embossed mythological creature, half-bird half-beast,
whose name escaped him. As smooth as a baby’s cheek, he smiled, and in one
piece indeed. Twelve inches tall, adorned with cultural motifs, its value was
immeasurable. Recalling its former place atop a glass-protected shelf in the
softly lighted hall, he knew keeping it out of harm's way was now his responsibility.
But for what purpose? he
wondered.
An earthworm pulsated beside
him. He scooped it up. The creature hung from both sides of his open palm, tiny
clumps of earth clung to its moist, plump body. Perhaps life underground
remained unaffected, he shook his head in amazement. Tickled by the worm’s
wriggling, a chuckle escaped his lips. The sound took him by surprise.
Once on the ground again, the
worm squirmed away in a sinuous movement. He followed it with his eyes until it
was gone. Sunk in thought for a long hour after, deep furrows formed on his
brow.
He finally rewrapped the vase
with his coat and crawled out, rising to his feet when he reached the open air.
He looked up, trying in vain to trace a patch of blue sky, even a hint. Am I
trapped in someone’s dream? he wondered before he turned to resume his flight.
Where to, he knew not.
so beautifully written !!! thanks !!! Nili
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