Desert

Untitled Part 5

Outside your window the sky is obsidian black. You have never seen something this dark. Not even the dunes are this expansive. You know the rubble must end somewhere. But this jet? It never ends.

Through the sky trail comets. Brilliant streaks of white cut through the ink, like blood spilled on ash. It's beautiful, in a horrific way.

What could have happened to your world? It was treacherous, yes, but it was reliable. You knew how to avoid the pitfalls in the dunes, the twisters through ruins.

In this new world, you have no sense of self. You aren't separate from this infinite cosmos, you are just one dot of light, hurtling through space.

You are endless.

You are finite.

You are nothing.

You are everything.

In a brazen act, adventurous or stupid you don't know, you walk to the front door of your home. You fumble to unlock the seals that once kept you from rust colored death. You step out.

You don't fall, as you expected you would. Instead you seem to stand, or hover, on an invisible porch overlooking the expanse. You let the tears roll down your face like the stars pouring through the sky.

From somewhere beyond you hear a mewl both foreign and most nostalgic to your ears.