The world was shrouded darkness, save for a single fire that continued to burn and crackle even as the man fell asleep next to it. The man was alone, except for his dreams. Along the many alleys and crowded streets of his mind, there were people laughing, crying, and living. When he awoke, that lively energy was but an echo in the hollow of his thoughts.

Before each dawn’s breaking he stamped out the fire, gathered his meager belongings, and continued his journey across the ashen landscape. He brandished a cane that gave him balance, for though the land was flat, it would sometimes shift beneath his feet. The air tasted burnt and the black snow fell without end.

The man did not know where he was going. His sight was taken long ago, and so life unfolded before him through his other, magnified senses: he felt the hot air expand across his cracking skin, smelt a putrid stench reminiscent of rotten eggs, and heard only the shuffling of his cautious feet.

But this day – unlike a thousand other days – would give him something new. A voice traveled to his ears, sensitive as they were, and sang a hopeful melody. He chased the song as quick as his old legs would allow. The voice grew louder. He could hear the distinct vibrato, the pitch control, and when necessary, restraint. Then, when he believed he had reached the source, silence interjected.

He tilted his head in concentration. It was so quiet he could almost feel its presence as a corporeal entity. It gnawed at his sanity and drove him to question every facet of his reality. Was he alive or was this the afterlife? If seeing created the faithful, then was he not a faithless bastard? No one around to confirm or deny his existence. Doubt stole his self-awareness.

But this day – unlike a thousand other days – would give him hope. The singing called to him again, this time much closer.

“I am coming,” he shouted for reasons he could not fathom. His declaration reverberated. But as he hurried along, the land raged: earthquakes spasmed the barren ground, broke dirt and stone, and rearranged them like puzzle pieces trying to find the proper match. The man tumbled, head over heels, and found purchase on his back.

To know sorrow, to eat its bones and still crave its scraps, despite the bitterness it leaves on your tongue, the acid that boils in your chest after you gorge, being endlessly sick, and nauseated, and numb.

He cried. Tears poured down his face and soaked into his beard. Sobs shook him to his core and a tension wound tightly around his body. He folded into himself like a fetus.

“Please, I don’t want it no more! Let me go, dammit! Let me go!”

On the coat-tails of a light breeze, little more than the weight of a feather as it swept over him, the singing was borne again. He discerned words and gave chase once more.

i’ve found you, my love
in the palm of my hands
as i play with the sand

i’ve found you, my love
in the castle i built
until the ocean came and tore it down

Below the surface of those words, there was a shape of loneliness outlined in the shakiness of their projection. As it faded, he heard chains rattle. He bumped into her, suddenly, and the impact made him fall.

“It is you,” he said, using his cane to push himself onto his feet.

The woman he addressed did not respond, but he could hear the soft scuttle of her movements and a heft to her breathing. She moved closer and he could feel a warmth radiate from her. He smiled. 

“You’ve nothing to fear from me. I’m naught but an old man trying to make his way.”

“Where is it you come from?” she asked in a whispered old English accent. 

The old man laughed. “It’s been so long, the name of the place escapes my memory. What was that song you were singing?”

“My Mum used to sing it to me. She’s long dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Am I the first person you’ve seen since the Calamity?”

“You are.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

He cocked his head in her direction. “The young should flourish and the old should perish.”

“That’s a bit macabre, Mister. What’s your name?”

“You can call me Rem and yourself?”

“Gemma, but I prefer Gem.”

They had reached a new sense of familiarity, and a trust bond was formed. Their conversation lulled as each sought to find the right words, the proper means to navigate such rare social machinations.

It was Rem who first broke that silence. “Would you like to join me on a little quest, Gem?”

“A quest? For what, exactly?”

“At this hour? Food. I’m famished.”

“Where are we supposed to find food?”

“There are certain plants and animals that have survived. One only needs to know where to look.”

“Lead the way, then.”

He frowned at her. “Have you no sense, girl? I’m blind.” For a moment they both stood still, rooted firmly to their respective spots. Rem chuckled and Gem laughed a hearty, belly-laugh that split the open air and gave this dead planet renewed vigor, if only for an instant.

“You can be my eyes. I’ll be the nose, I’ve a keen sense of smell. Grab my shoulder—you are aware of the Changing?”

“The Changing? You mean when the ground breaks apart?”

“Exactly. Don’t let me slip through the cracks. We’ve enough problems without my death on your conscience.”

Together, they journeyed across the desolate waste. For miles there were no trees, dead or living, nor sign of any animals. Life was depicted only in the sounds of their footsteps and their every breath. They did not speak for hours as the sun ascended to its peak at midday. Heat shimmered from the ash that lay in countless mounds on the ground.

Before long they were soaked in their own perspiration. Sweat swam into their eyes, forcing them to blink and grunt in pain as the stinging sensation overwhelmed all else. Fatigue slowed their pace and weighted their limbs, as though gravity had somehow tripled.

“We should stop and rest. I feel like I’m about to fall over,” Gem suggested, her voice brittle. Rem agreed and they found a spot, between several large hills of ash, to lay down their heads. Dreams stole their consciousness and reasoning away for a while, and brought them into worlds filled with oceans, wildlife and people. Laughter, smiles, and parties filled with massive congregations blasted the universe with their joviality.

When the dreams ended and they awoke, sadness returned with a numbness that pushed them to tears. Each asked the other what caused such distress. Both answers were the same: “It’s all gone.” 

They moved on. The night and the dark took their turn. Gem had never known such an absence of light. There were always degrees, different measures in which the night stifled out any remnants of the day, but this was the worst. It was as if she had stepped into a plane of nonexistence. A ghost that could not comprehend its own death. Dread filled her hurried breaths, the hammering of her heart, and the cold that snaked from her arms to the tips of her fingers.

Rem’s presence sought to mollify these symptoms. His calm transferred to her. After a long while in this abyss, she realized that Rem had stopped and sat down.

“Join me, we’ll go no further tonight.”

Using the length of his arm as a guide, she sat, still feeling that hard edge of fear scrape her psyche like a serrated blade. Rem remained calm, unfazed, having known such terrible darkness for much of his life. 

“It’s alright, Gem. Evenings like these pass more quickly than the norm.”

When she at last found herself at peace, the Changing happened: a subtle tremble, then, with a fierce urgency, a larger quake began to split open the stone floor beneath the soft bed of ash. Gem awoke to that palpable, ever-present dark—a living thing in itself! As the land shook her, she tumbled, cried, and scrambled in search of Rem. Her hands groped and clawed. She slipped as she tried to stand. She called his name, once…twice.

The Changing ceased as quickly as it began.

The night faded from the skies as the sun announced dawn’s break. Gem looked in all directions, but did not see Rem, though she caught a glimpse of a new light bourne from the ground. It pulsated like an arterial vein, ruby red and growing brighter. Black smoke plumed from the cracks that spread during the last Changing.

Gem held her breath, waiting for the proper moment to finally exhale. She could not see through her tears. A voice trilled from below:

i’ve found you, my love
in the palm of my hands
as i play with the sand

i’ve found you, my love
in the castle i built…

Gem finished the lyric: “Until the ocean came and tore it down…”

Shifting ash and muffled footsteps turned her around. “Gem? Are you okay?”

“Rem!” she shouted as she bounded toward him. “I heard my mother’s song after the Changing and I couldn’t find you. I got so scared that I was all alone again, just like when she died, and I didn’t know what to do! It was so tempting to jump in…” During her diatribe, she sobbed and inadvertently squeezed him like a vice.

“Oh, my dear, Gem, I’ll not leave you,” he muttered in her ear.

They supped on the meat of a starving rabbit when they neared the rim of a dying forest. Branches and boles were coated in a dusting of ash, and it continued to fall. The fire that burned in the heavens and the earth had become a coal bed. Rem succumbed to a cough, which developed into a sustained sickness, and his constant fits would not abate. At one point he hacked up blood into his hands, its viscosity thinner than either of them would have imagined. It’s lighter color resembled orange.

She laid him down to rest at the foot of a tree. The forest spoke in creaks and groans as a soft breeze passed through. She sang him songs and used a tattered blanket from his pack to keep him warm. Fever claimed him. The coughing ceased as he slowly became unresponsive. His lungs struggled for air.

When at last his heart did not beat and his eyes did not close, she cried over his corpse. She cried until the night and the burgeoning of the next day. She stumbled through the forest, leaving him to be buried by the ashen snow which was now up to her knees. Crying stirred a pain in her chest, like a blockage that made it difficult to breathe. Grief and loneliness, decayed her will to live. Gem decided that it might be best to give in and die. Before she could act, she exited the forest.

The sun greeted her first. A warm touch that met her palm as she raised it to guard her eyes from the stark brightness that it emitted. She’d stepped into a better world on the whims of a wish. Grasses shaven and some wilder stretched out like a sea of spring and summer. Its vibrance seared into her memory and brought forth a furious guilt for having seen it whilst others had met their makers! She fell to her knees, bent her head back and let loose a visceral wail.

People heard and soon a crowd gathered.

“We’ve got another! Quick, get her some soup and juice!” a voice shouted.

“Wh-where am I?” she asked when she could find words again.

“You’re home, child,” answered an elderly woman. “You’re home.”