Rising
I was Flickering
It was months after the first collapse that I discovered him.
We had finished with the city skyline only days before, tearing down the last few pieces and leaving an empty space where the hollow shape of it had stood before, and had left, flickering, our backs to each other. That had exhausted the best of us and, covered in soot and ash and kicking off the last pieces of building soul and plaster, we retreated as far away from it as we possibly could, running through oceans and fields and nights and days to escape what we had seen. I knew that much. Some saw each other, flickering dangerously at the ends of the earth, and I saw him. He was sitting in the middle of the city, though I can’t remember which city it was. Busy. Full of sick and dying people, bright lights that they thought would bring them back to life. The city always pulled the life out of the brightest people.
I sat far enough away that he wouldn’t see me, though he did. We sat there for a long while, aware of each other but never moving, even when the light slipped away and so did the season.
We had finished with the city skyline only days before, tearing down the last few pieces and leaving an empty space where the hollow shape of it had stood before, and had left, flickering, our backs to each other. That had exhausted the best of us and, covered in soot and ash and kicking off the last pieces of building soul and plaster, we retreated as far away from it as we possibly could, running through oceans and fields and nights and days to escape what we had seen. I knew that much. Some saw each other, flickering dangerously at the ends of the earth, and I saw him. He was sitting in the middle of the city, though I can’t remember which city it was. Busy. Full of sick and dying people, bright lights that they thought would bring them back to life. The city always pulled the life out of the brightest people.
I sat far enough away that he wouldn’t see me, though he did. We sat there for a long while, aware of each other but never moving, even when the light slipped away and so did the season.