A Dreamer's Worlds

Alone

The city had never slept before. As he walked through the streets, only crows spoke. Neon lights, broken and warped, littered the sides of the streets. Cars that once shuttled people back and forth lay quiet, like great dead beasts put down after ages of service. It was like the city, with its regal skyscrapers and eternal lights, had finally rolled over and called it a day.

Rats skittered around his feet, bold from the silence of the city. His footsteps sounded so loud, and for a moment he feared that he would wake the slumbering city. He remembered when the city was loud, when people scampered from place to place. There weren't any people anymore, only the crows and the rats. Dogs and cats, long outliving their masters, fed upon them.

His feet took him the way he'd always gone. Down the street he went, along the sidewalk. The body of a dog lay in his path, picked at by crows. He went around it, his shadow covering the corpse. The crows didn't fly away, calm in the knowledge that they would be safe, even if he were starving. One cawed and flew to a nearby roof, gazing down at him with beady eyes.

The city had only slept for a month, and already Mother Nature was working to reclaim it. The crow fluttered down next to him, bending a small sapling that had shot up with incredible speed. He ignored it, and it cawed in annoyance. He didn't react, and the crow returned to the corpse.

Vaguely, he wondered whether it would be the crows or the rats that would devour him. It would likely be both, he thought. First, the rats. The gnawing rats would tear his skin apart, leaving him open for the crows to pick at him. The dogs would have their share, rending him apart. The cats would hunt the rodents who'd be fat with his flesh.

He wished that there was someone out there waiting for him. The silence of humanity was overbearing. Simply the breathing of another human being would be heaven on Earth for him.

His shadow was walking on his left now. Had he really been walking so long? He didn't feel tired. He wasn't breathing heavily, and he knew his heart was beating just fine.

A crow flew above him again, circling as its brethren joined it. Was it really fitting, he thought, that carrion eaters had company and not him? The answer: no, no it wasn't. His foot fell harder on the pavement, but the grass growing through kept his step nearly silent.

The city, so full of life, wasn't just resting. It hadn't just fallen into a deep slumber. The city that never slept before would never again be awake. The city, it seemed, had simply died.

Then he heard it.

The sound of fire. The sound of cheery, crackling fire. The sound filled him with warmth though it wasn't even there. He broke into a run. A laugh, half-mad, escaped his lips as he dashed to the sound of fire.

Flowers decorating the cracked concrete were crushed beneath his feet, only to rebound moments later. Rats scrambled out of his way.

He ran to the fire.

An old building. A shop. The sign had fallen, and Mother Nature had erased its words. It smelt of smoke, not just wood smoke but the smoke of drugs. He shook his head, trying to get the smell out of his nose. He hoped that it wasn't being used, that the smell of drugs was from the time when the city was loud.

The door was broken. He pushed it in gently and called a greeting to the fire-maker. There was no reply. The fire, alone, danced and threw his shadow against the walls. Electricity arced with silent menace from a sputtering generator.

He was alone. Slowly, he walked to the fire, planting himself in front of it.

It faked life. It danced as if there was something to dance for. There was nothing. He sat down, staring at the fire. His heart was beating heavily now, slamming against his chest. He lifted his gaze, imagining for a moment that someone sat across from him.

He drew his legs to his chest. They ached. He hadn't realized earlier but now they ached. His breath came in gasps now, short, choking gasps that he couldn't control. His face was wet.

He looked up. His shadow made a crowd on the wall, his only companies. He yelled at them. Screamed at them. Cursed them for being silent just like the rest of the world.

The fire still dancing. He threw dirt on it, kicked at it. Jumped away when his shoe caught fire. He put the flame down, standing beside the fire once more.

He sat down, staring at the fire. It dried his face. He closed his eyes, laying on his side.

He curled up next to the fire, which was still joyful in the face of death. He curled up under the stares of his shadows, which were still his silent companions.

He curled up, and hoped that he would either wake with company, or not wake at all.