By Ander Thorn
Prompt: “What would Earth look like without human life?”
Outside of the shattered window, the world awakens once again. Moans and whistles creep inside. Groans start slowly, as the trees practice their morning stretch and the birds begin to greet them.
A symphony of cicadas chimes in, as if to harmonize with the arrangement nature is performing. Together the song of mid-Summer in Kansas comes to a crescendo, just as the first rays of light grip the window sill.
Light pours in through the broken window. Warmth overtakes my weak form. A gust of wind spills into the room, inviting a troupe of dancing dust clumps to perform for their audience of one.
The scorching Hutchinson sun is a welcome departure from the desolate void I sat in all night. A perfect beverage to accompany such a bittersweet ballad. It almost feels as if I am alive again, almost…
Day after day, I wander about these empty grounds in this hallowed house. Alone I wander—accompanied by the songs of nature, and the dancers of dust, and the bugs. You might underestimate the company of bugs, but they are in fact captivating and brilliant. I wonder if that’s what we looked like.
Night after night, I watch the sunrise. Accompanied by the whistling trees, and the singing cicadas, and the sun—the uncompromising, unvarying, and unbearable sun. This weathered prison is my home; this unwavering ambience, the soundtrack to life in this town. At least, life after we left the orchestra.
Here is where I was born and where I lived my short life. This old house is where I stole candy from my grandma’s purse, where I brought my first partner to meet my family, and where I was buried.
Truly, I could ask for no better grave, and I could ask for no worse confinement. Even after the world’s end, there’s no place like home.
End
Prompt: “Go to the local pond to go fishing, but something else is in the water.”
The Song of Home Inspiration
Hello Readers! I hope everyone enjoyed this bittersweet short story! This story was inspired by a couple of things. First, I wrote a draft of this during a workshop. The task was to write a short story using a photo as a prompt. The photo I used was a young boy sitting inside a dark room. Sunlight was streaming in a broken window, illuminating the child, sitting on the empty floor. The scene had a similar feeling to a movie I love called a Ghost Story.
I wanted to portray life on earth after human life was no longer on earth. It is a bittersweet story because the character loves their home and loved their life, however, they don’t love loneliness. No one does.
As the story unfolded, it started to become symbolic of our life, living in one place for so long. It is amazing to become a part of a greater community and to help develop its roots, but it is also heartbreaking when you become the only one continuing to help it grow.
I personally feel like our community was on a decline for many years, however, I think that in the past few years, there has been a fresh breath of mid-Summer air. I think the community has started to blossom once again.
Thank you for reading, for engaging, and for being a part of this blossoming community. Every bit of engagement, no matter how small, no matter how direct, helps us all blossom.
