ROBERTGRAY
3
I am here only as an observer, watching the world through vicarious eyes.--Anonymous
T
he impenitent sun cuts a seething purple and red wound into the skyas it begins to dip. It’s nearing five in the evening and on the cusp between hotand less hot. This is winter in New York City, and I’ve come to enjoy this scrapof time. The progression has been slow, not the all-consuming apocalypsesuggested. For me, it was four springs ago, standing in my yard with a rake, when I realized something was wrong. My house was framed with spruces andoak. In my backyard, a thin creek split a new housing development that wasbeing built. The rake felt heavy and odd in my hands, many leaves unfinished, yet dying. Every house that formed the circle of my cul-de-sac had lifelesstrees. I told myself that perhaps because of the construction, some vital roots were cut, which somehow linked the trees in my yard to my neighbors. It tookmonths to realize the truth. The world was dying.During the following fall, the news defined the word atrocity, with bubblynewscasters and big words like "oxygen deprivation." Villages in southernAfrica, more affected by "oxygen deprivation" than other continents, beganslaughtering animals. I remember seeing the pictures of elephants piled inshallow red pools, and a video of a lioness, who, after protecting her babies byhiding them under brush and mud, fought more than twenty men armed withrifles. She fought until there was nothing left of her but rags. The camera cutaway leaving the unsettling feeling that the cubs had been spotted. It seemedthe villagers went mad; perhaps the effects of what scientists and psychiatristssaid can happen when there is not enough oxygen provided to the brain. These slaughters spread worldwide, and experts were televised offeringconflicting viewpoints on how oxygen can affect the brain, each with a well-designed presentation. Ideas trickled down onto wildlife associations. Themost popular allowed hunting to run without permits, and a list of animals--"nonessential to the existence of humankind," as I remember the newscastersaying--was offered to the sport. This kept the slaughter somehow civilized. The incidents were barely mentioned. It was happening in our own country,but no one so much as glanced into that abyss.I seldom see even a bird anymore.Sprays of light filter through naked tree limbs, resembling scars. Itreminds me that a boil is spreading across the world, for everything remindsme of this necrotic earth. Not many people are outside; less appear as the dayspass. Buildings pump artificial oxygen, and people herd to the fresh, cool air.
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Thanks, Scribereglyph, I'm glad you enjoyed the story.
Dismal and dark, I like it. The world you created interests me. The story made me want to know more about it this earth and explore it.