Viscous, gargling matter sputtered out of its gaping jaw, almost a stygian colour if it weren’t for the swirls of vermillion lingering within.
They were haunted eyes with blurred histories behind, drowned in uncontrollable despair with no refuge in mind.
He remembered the desperate bellows of evacuation echoing throughout the elevated city which sat on the risen sea. It was something distant and yet before him; right in front of his eyes as he stared helplessly at the star-riddled creek.
Venice ended up completely underwater.
Those in wealthy areas were the first to receive governmental support by having their penthouses fortified. And so, with not a tree in sight, it was a fruitless spree to a fatal degree.
At the end of the day, we all return to the ground, eventually.
Except for those apprehended by the virus. Their minds paralysed and morals warped with insatiable hunger when attacking their mothers.
They were morbid images of acute suffering.
However, that was two years, seven months, three weeks, and twenty-four days ago. Before various vegetation began penetrating the cracks in this page. Before he started traversing in a futile pursuit of something more, something greater than the concave shape of viral ribcages and crude rage.
It was a search for ruby blood, glittering minds and something–no, someone. Someone without a corroded heart, but rather a will to live with the remains of hope left scattered across the globe.
But all that’s plodding through his head is a singular, ludicrous note.
“Are you for real?”
Laughter bubbled up deep in his throat. How ridiculous! How ridiculous it was to recognise the rapid change in nature and do nothing about it. Were we seriously protesting against bloody plastic straws when the damage was already irreversible? The countless warnings from nature that something was happening within her body, the way her blood would rise higher and higher with each breath, her temperature soaring irreparably.
And now we suffer the consequences of what we found in her blue blood. Something ancient, before us, before concrete buildings erected in front of the sun out of the mud.
What we’ve discovered was beyond humanity, unlike any epidemic we’ve faced prior.
And yet, the world is a sprouting beauty with briars. Now, it seems like ichor is flowing through her veins…
So who are we to blame?
There’s gentle pink petals powdered across the vibrant blades of glass-like grass, life bursting even from urbanised areas that used to be plagued by the first class.
And this is the end of a crass allegory: you decide on the moral of the short story.