Whimpers of the Light

03 - The Boy and his Dog

The sun shone ever so gently on the valley below; a soft melody floated in the air. Loose boulders shifted underfoot as he jumped from one to the next. He trusted his balance despite their unsteady grip. Just before each jump, he hummed his song, pausing only to concentrate. After a few more hops, he stopped, standing still with eyes closed, head lifted to the sky. He basked in the sun's warmth — the wind tousled the strands of brown hair. He was hungry, as a rumble from his stomach reminded him.

He set his small backpack on the rocks. It was a prized possession adorned with stickers found during his many adventures. His favourite was a little green monster with orange spikes and a wide grin. It was labelled "Tyrannosaurus Rex", but he knew a T. Rex didn't look like that — monsters either.

Crouching, he reached inside with his tiny hand, trying to find the can without looking. There were a few things he liked to carry — just in case. Food, of course, but also his beloved red scarf and a car toy that reminded him of one he'd once seen — old and rusty but perfect for pretending. After rummaging for a moment, his hand finally found it. He revealed his prize in the sunlight, squinting as the metal reflected the bright rays. A faded image of a cat decorated the label; the letters had long since worn away. He hoped the food wasn't cat meat, but he was hungry anyway. He didn't wait for his friend; it wouldn't eat.

The buildings on each side of the road loomed over him like giant, silent protectors. He stood up and looked behind, scanning the rubble for his companion. The weight of loneliness pressed on his chest as he searched the debris, hoping to see a familiar shadow in the distance. He knew it would have trouble navigating the sea of debris, but it would eventually catch up. The sound of shifting rocks signalled him of its approach, a soft clatter that made his heart lift. Dog was his best friend, always going with him on expeditions. Explorers of this forgotten world. They had met in a giant building with so many treasures: jewels, toys, books, and big machines whose uses were lost on him. But that place was scary, and he had never returned after that.

A flock of birds landed on the ground farther away. They caught his attention. The boy sauntered to them until he was close enough to marvel at their antics. He crouched, hugging his knees and swaying back and forth. He found a sense of safety in that comforting embrace as if he was protected from the world beyond. The birds were tiny, even for him, and brown. They fought over crumbs in a patch of grass that had grown between cracks in the concrete. A shadow from the building fell over them. He wondered if they could speak to each other if they had best friends and families. The thought made his heart ache a little, but he was happy for them.

Beyond the birds, a large opening in the building beckoned; its doors could be pushed in a circle — he loved those. The windows were barred with wooden planks, blocking his view of what was inside. Rushing to the entrance, he sent the birds fluttering away around him and leaned against one of the large windows. A sense of excitement and trepidation surged over him with the promise of discovery. And exploration. With his hands pressed against the cold surface, he squished his forehead against the glass, trying to look through the gaps between the planks, examining the darkness within.

The doors were spinning faster and faster, pushed by the small boy as he ran in circles. After a while, he stopped, dizzy. It was like a storm in his stomach, mixing joy with the nagging anticipation of what lay beyond the doors. While catching his breath and restoring his balance, he gazed at the lobby before him. A giant room with a single large desk that stretched from left to right. Behind it, two stairs flanked a tagged wall — a graffiti the shape of Earth with a single giant word written in red. "Doomed." It sounded bad, but he wasn't sure of the meaning. He grabbed a small notebook and a fluffy pen from his bag, scribbling the word on a new page with a question mark next to it.