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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Survival / Success
- Subject: Culture / Heritage / Lifestyles
- Published: 12/30/2020
The Senior was Dead. The last of his kind. The few who were offered his Flesh accepted the Honor with tears flowing down their faces. Outside, the winds howled with three hundred mile an hour winds that tried to rip the very stone from ground. The Senior was the last person to know what Life was like on Earth before “The Change.”
Some few quietly kept their opinion that many of the Stories the Senior told were…at best, figments of his imagination…at worst…out right lies. I mean who could believe living more than twenty five years? Going outside without clothes, or anchors? Swimming in the Ocean? Days and weeks without even a breeze or a storm? Tall buildings? Billions of people? It was beyond belief. But the Senior had showed them both pictures and books. The Elders swore that they saw both.
The Priests said it was a Scientific Calamity called: Tidal Lock, that doomed Humanity. The Senior said he was sixteen years old. Nobody living knew what a year was, or even how to guess at what one was. According to the Senior, before the Scientific Calamity , Humans lived to almost a Hundred of those years. A life after Tidal Lock had no real way to judge the passing of time. It was always twilight. Always. There were no days or nights.
Sure you could go to the edge on Bright …some claim they went far enough into the Bright Side to see the Ocean Boil. Just like some say they ventured far enough into Dark to see the Frozen Ocean. Maybe they did. Most didn’t come back. You would meet a few on the Walk who told those stories huddled in the Stone Huts as the wind howled outside. They sounded real.
The Walk is the way of Life for everyone. You planted the seeds you carried (and everyone carried a dozen or more small bags) as you walked. Some other tribe would harvest what you planted some while later. They would plant the seeds the saved from eating what you planted. You walked every day, until you hit the boundary. Then you turned around and joined the Walk again. It was said that the Walk could never be completed. Maybe that was true.
The Elders, the eldest being all of twenty six years of age, did (as every Generation had done since the The Change) made walking staffs, anchor hooks, and seed poles with the bones of the Senior. Some were given to his Tribe. Others were left in the Stone Huts with a small child and a Watcher. They would tell the stories from Memory about the Senior, and what part of his bones were in the gift they left in the Stone Hut. The Watcher and Child, would then be part of the tribe that found their stone hut. The stories lived on.
The Senior was supposed to have been 112 of his Years old. The Elders say that was almost the span of Six full lifetimes on the Walk. It made folks wonder if the Senior had actually done the Walk from Pole to Pole. Nobody even knew what the Seniors last words meant. They all knew the words, but not the meaning.
“I lived a good life. Now, I go join the Stars.”
Nobody knew what “ Stars" meant. It was lost in the Seniors time, along with zippers, cell phones, and things called Planes. And his beloved cities…which even the most devoted follower of the Senior couldn’t grasp. Millions of people? In one place? And they don’t have to move to survive…it was beyond comprehension.
Three people were chosen to carry the Senior’s things. One carried a small bag holding what the Senior called: “His Phone.” Another carried a small bag with a picture of the Senior standing in the Ocean. It was sealed in something called plastic. The last thing was his special metal. The Senior called it : “My wedding ring.” Nobody could work metal…and rings were rare.
They must have been rare in the Senior’s time too. Because he was often seen turning the ring around on his finger and chanting weird words”
“I loved you Babe. I miss you. I wish you were here with me.”
When the Elders who “Babe” was, the Senior would sometimes smile, sometimes, cry, and sometimes not answer. When he spoke he said things that made no sense:
“Babe? Babe was my wife. My reason for living.”
No one knew what a wife was, or if Babe was a name, a position, or some magical technology that was lost with the Change.
The wind had died down. The Tribe pulled the stones away from the entrance. It was time to join the Walk again.
It was twilight. It always was. The sky was moody with clouds that ranged from muddy to grey. Toward the Bright you could see some color in the clouds, towards the Dark, just thick dark grey low clouds. The People checked their packs, poles, and anchors, incase a wind would come and force them into the stones.
The Change was permanent. Just like the Walk.,
The Walk.(Kevin Hughes)
The Senior was Dead. The last of his kind. The few who were offered his Flesh accepted the Honor with tears flowing down their faces. Outside, the winds howled with three hundred mile an hour winds that tried to rip the very stone from ground. The Senior was the last person to know what Life was like on Earth before “The Change.”
Some few quietly kept their opinion that many of the Stories the Senior told were…at best, figments of his imagination…at worst…out right lies. I mean who could believe living more than twenty five years? Going outside without clothes, or anchors? Swimming in the Ocean? Days and weeks without even a breeze or a storm? Tall buildings? Billions of people? It was beyond belief. But the Senior had showed them both pictures and books. The Elders swore that they saw both.
The Priests said it was a Scientific Calamity called: Tidal Lock, that doomed Humanity. The Senior said he was sixteen years old. Nobody living knew what a year was, or even how to guess at what one was. According to the Senior, before the Scientific Calamity , Humans lived to almost a Hundred of those years. A life after Tidal Lock had no real way to judge the passing of time. It was always twilight. Always. There were no days or nights.
Sure you could go to the edge on Bright …some claim they went far enough into the Bright Side to see the Ocean Boil. Just like some say they ventured far enough into Dark to see the Frozen Ocean. Maybe they did. Most didn’t come back. You would meet a few on the Walk who told those stories huddled in the Stone Huts as the wind howled outside. They sounded real.
The Walk is the way of Life for everyone. You planted the seeds you carried (and everyone carried a dozen or more small bags) as you walked. Some other tribe would harvest what you planted some while later. They would plant the seeds the saved from eating what you planted. You walked every day, until you hit the boundary. Then you turned around and joined the Walk again. It was said that the Walk could never be completed. Maybe that was true.
The Elders, the eldest being all of twenty six years of age, did (as every Generation had done since the The Change) made walking staffs, anchor hooks, and seed poles with the bones of the Senior. Some were given to his Tribe. Others were left in the Stone Huts with a small child and a Watcher. They would tell the stories from Memory about the Senior, and what part of his bones were in the gift they left in the Stone Hut. The Watcher and Child, would then be part of the tribe that found their stone hut. The stories lived on.
The Senior was supposed to have been 112 of his Years old. The Elders say that was almost the span of Six full lifetimes on the Walk. It made folks wonder if the Senior had actually done the Walk from Pole to Pole. Nobody even knew what the Seniors last words meant. They all knew the words, but not the meaning.
“I lived a good life. Now, I go join the Stars.”
Nobody knew what “ Stars" meant. It was lost in the Seniors time, along with zippers, cell phones, and things called Planes. And his beloved cities…which even the most devoted follower of the Senior couldn’t grasp. Millions of people? In one place? And they don’t have to move to survive…it was beyond comprehension.
Three people were chosen to carry the Senior’s things. One carried a small bag holding what the Senior called: “His Phone.” Another carried a small bag with a picture of the Senior standing in the Ocean. It was sealed in something called plastic. The last thing was his special metal. The Senior called it : “My wedding ring.” Nobody could work metal…and rings were rare.
They must have been rare in the Senior’s time too. Because he was often seen turning the ring around on his finger and chanting weird words”
“I loved you Babe. I miss you. I wish you were here with me.”
When the Elders who “Babe” was, the Senior would sometimes smile, sometimes, cry, and sometimes not answer. When he spoke he said things that made no sense:
“Babe? Babe was my wife. My reason for living.”
No one knew what a wife was, or if Babe was a name, a position, or some magical technology that was lost with the Change.
The wind had died down. The Tribe pulled the stones away from the entrance. It was time to join the Walk again.
It was twilight. It always was. The sky was moody with clouds that ranged from muddy to grey. Toward the Bright you could see some color in the clouds, towards the Dark, just thick dark grey low clouds. The People checked their packs, poles, and anchors, incase a wind would come and force them into the stones.
The Change was permanent. Just like the Walk.,
Gordon England
12/31/2020Kevin. I think you were having a bad day to dream up an apocolypse such as this, though you did a good job of it
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
12/31/2020Hey Gordon,
Nope. I was just thinking of what Tidal Lock would do to a planet that used to revolve...what would happen to the Civilizations on it? Life would find a way, but I think Technology would not only be lost, but never develop again.
On the Other hand it is still 2020, and maybe my angst and worry just filters out in my stories...as you mentioned in your other comment. After all, three "dark" stories in a row by me, is unprecedented....and hasn't that word come to represent 2020? LOL
Happy New Year, smiles,
Kevin
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