This turned out gentler than planned. I wanted to give it a twist at the end, but it came out how it came out, as they often do. I look forward to seeing how others interpret this weeks.
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Not a Mirage
“Not much
further now. Look you can see it up ahead.”
“Are you
sure that’s real and not another mirage?”
“It has to
be, look how the light sun is highlighting it.”
Gabriel
paused to catch her breath and look at their destination – a tree. It could be the
only tree on earth. They’d been travelling for years and not seen one yet. It looked
too real with its rich green foliage standing out against the scorched earth it
stood in; it seemed surreal.
But then
the whole of the earth was scorched now, the only life that could be sustained
was in the crowded, dirty cities, using recycled ocean water. The seas might
still exist but nothing lived in them now – nothing lived anywhere anymore,
except humans in their cities. Mankind had made sure of that – or at least the
ones that controlled the bombs. A hundred years had passed and the land had
grown hot, arid and barren. The only plants that grew were in underground
glasshouses and were only for those that could afford them, the rest of the
population had to make do with supplements; it was the second largest thing to
cull the population after the bombs, and the one that kept it to a minimum.
Gabriel and
Peter hadn’t wanted to stay in the cities. They were dangerous and toxic. They
didn’t believe the stories that there was nothing out here; they wanted to find
out for themselves. So they had. They had travelled across landmass after landmass,
witnessing the desertification, the monotony broken only by isolated, congested
cities where the people crowded in, trying to survive.
Up until
now the only sightings of any other living thing between the cities had been
water starved illusions. Gabriel was surprised they were still alive.
And here
ahead of them was a tree – or potential tree. She had only seen them on
computers and in old films. She wondered what it would smell and feel like.
“Oh I hope
it is real, Peter.”
“Let’s find
out, Gabby.”
He took her
hand and led her down the rocky hillside onto the plain. The tree loomed larger
as they drew closer. It didn’t wobble or shimmer, it remained steady. Gabby
felt the same urgency as Peter as he tugged at her hand, upping their pace,
breaking into a jog as they approached. They stopped a foot away, silently
observing. They could hear the whoosh of the wind blowing through its leaves
and smell the slightly acrid smell of its foliage. Peter stepped forward and
tentatively put out a hand to its trunk. His fingers brushed its surface and he
moved closer pressing both hands against it.
“It IS
real!” he laughed. “It is! It is!”
Gabby
rushed forward to join him, flinging her arms around the tree’s wide girth and
embracing it. She felt the rough texture of the bark under her cheek and inhaled
the woody smell, so alien yet so familiar.
Peter
stepped back a couple of feet and started digging in the ground.
“What are
you doing?”
“If it can
survive here, then so can we. There must be a water source.”
After he dug
down a foot or more the earth started to get damp.
“See? I
told you.”
Gabby
joined him and after a while they had a puddle of water in the bottom of a
hole. It smelt of sand and soil but when they licked it, it was sweet. Gabby
cupped a handful, it was a little gritty but it quenched her thirst. She took
another and found that the hole never quite emptied.
Once they
had both had their fill, they settled down against the base of the tree.
“What shall
we do now, Peter?”
“Set up
camp, Gabby, this is our home now, and our tree.”
She smiled.
They had done it. They had found life outside the cities; a fresh start, a new
beginning.
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