Ashes of the world
By J. L. Young

Before the occupation, I struggled to find work. I even struggled to find love. I sat alone nightly and wished my life would change. It did.

The ashes of this world still drift on the wind. I haven’t heard the voice of another in many years. The trees no longer bear leaves to hide me from the Sun. Winter is biting and gnawing at my very being. My shoes have no soles, for I have walked them off some miles past. The night is falling. I must seek shelter.

As a farmer burns a field, the occupiers came. I could hear the weapons from my apartment. Haunting they were. Akin to the hiss of a snake accompanied by crackling lightning. Human weapons silenced as soon as they reported. Men and women alike screamed until their voices fell silent forever.

Time no longer wears the face of a companion. It is now of the hound eager to find prey and lead the hunter to it.

The last thing to bring me joy was a toboggan I had found sticking out from beneath a fallen tree. I still wear it to protect my pate from the Sun. It wasn’t until this very moment I thought of the previous owner left to rot beneath that fallen trunk.

How have I survived thus far? An instinct? I may never know.

The conquerors, they draw near. I can hear them. Faceless and formless to my eyes. An ally paranoia has become. Mustn’t make fire. Mustn’t disturb what’s left of the undergrowth. Must keep moving. Every step leads them to me. I take to the growing permafrost to better hide my footsteps, but the cold has taken its toll on my now blackened feet.

I would hunt for food and hides if they hadn’t eradicated them first. I live off the insects and the plants. But this far north or south my supply wears thin. I have fashioned tools for my survival and they have served me thus far. They will remain with me for life. A cave deep in the mountain will hide my fire. There, I seek refuge and tend to my wounds.

Alas, I am found. Futile as it was, I fought only to entertain my ego. My fire is now long since extinguished. I have seen the face of the faceless and it looked like mine.