Blind is the era--Where hopes die and rebirth--of new beginnings.
By: Sophie Yang
The endless, starry dome encapsulating the small piece of the universe known as the planet Earth was painted red, as if it were the surface of a perfectly ripe apple--one that a five-year-old boy could have once sunk his teeth into as the skin of the fruit broke open, its juices dripping out from underneath his teeth and onto the cement, savoring the bliss of childhood.
The thought made “his” parched throat burn, and the sweat condensing on “his” brow fell between the sides of “his” mouth. It tasted sour, “he” noticed, like a sea of rotting fish. Above the decaying wilderness, a crow spiraled overhead, eyeing the flat landscape for prey, cawing a solitary cry. The piercing screech was soon consumed by the murky air. Whether anyone responded, “he” couldn’t tell. Unfortunately, as nature had condemned it, humans did not have the likes of a bird.
Underneath the fiery sky, two lone shadows, side by side, made their way across the barren wasteland, crusted over with centuries of dust and erosion. Fissures and chasms in the dried-up earth weaved together in a web-like motion, racing towards the center of the earth—where all ends meet.
The softening dunes crumbled beneath “his” feet, like the corroding body of an ancient god, becoming one with the sand and abyss. “He” watched “his” heavy boot make an imprint in the sand that would sooner or later be washed away by the wind, and “he”, like the many others before him, would disappear.
Man and woman, lost
Bathed in the seed of sentience