“It will be perfect!” She exclaims “Out here… We can be free. A green house with every environmental feature.”
“Imagine all laminate floors and steel beams to save the trees…. After they take out those on the middle where the house will go.” He smiles. “The dream house.. Once they tear out that horrific brown stuff growing where the sod should be.”
“Our own 3200 square foot 3 bedroom, 3 and half bath place for us two!” she looks at the full-size SUV. “And the dogs.”
“It’ll look so much better when they build the other 35 homes here. Nice manicured yards. This country life is really what we looked forward to.” he smiles back at her.
“Ouch!” she swats at a mosquito “We’ll need an exterminator! And a lawn care guy. But they have to be green.”
“He was such a shallow man. Always try to show he had risen above hi snake like personality. Glad to see you succumb to illness.” Tina kicks dirt into the open grave. Her pale thin face sneaks a peek at the five other mourners. “It’s go to see you in the hole but it should be much further. I’d put you below Hell. Maybe that’s deep enough.”
Tina fakes a dab at her eyes. “They came just to be sure you’re dead also!”
The autumn chill descended over the town and with it came rot and ruin. October’s breath plays in the streets. Dense blanket of fog keep the Sun at bay. Breezes swirl but lift nothing but a few leaves. The stiffling scent of certainly wasn’t moving away.
The Almira dogs stop their incessant howling. Sounds fail as silence takes a bite from the hustle and bustle of Suburbia. Wood creaks,slightly muffed like under a rug. Two mutts slowly back away from the fence made of chicken wire and old beams. Wood crumbles. Wire rusts through instantly. Tentatively they take their last steps.
Trees sway above. The fog moves a little further. The stench lingers. Upon the next house, another life falls.
“I love the sound of the river. God, those engines fighting the inevitable current! They surge!” Timothy taps his fingers on a wooden crate. “If they stop, the thing goes sideways.”
Timothy tugs down the brim of his ball cap. His eyes roll along the viaduct. Empty as always during the morning. The Sun has yet to bring out the second round of fishermen.
“Well, time to loosen the load. I hope you can swim….” Timothy’s voice raises slightly. “Oh yeah…Good luck with the crate, ropes and gag.”
Timothy pushes the long narrow crate to the edge of the tailgate. A sudden shift in weight drops it to the concrete surface inches from the water.
“Don’t worry those bags of sand won’t hurt soon. The water takes all that weight away. It sounds like it knocked the wind out of you.” Timothy pushes it end over end til a loud splash splits the surface.
“Are you sure someone can read it in a hundredth of a second?” Shiela looks upward.
“World’s Greatest Psychic seemed presumptuous, so…” Gabriel looks at her.
“But can they read it?!” Shiela questions
I struggle with my fringe power. It’s mysteries swirl then list like shooting star. My brain storms new roads to charge down. At last comes a sigh. I have gone nowhere.
“Come in Rogers. Are you there?” The silver box speaks again
“Piece of junk! Like the damn tin can that got us stuck here!” Rogers kicks a stone and tries it again. “Yes, we are here on this damn empty rock!”
“We have a read on you finally. We show ship is down. What’s your status?” the silver box squeals out it’s song.
“We’re stuck. Phillips is taping the ship together and calling this forsaken place Terra Firma. I’m looking for that water line on the map. I don’t think it works. The valve is missing.” Rogers calms down as he stares at the valve.
“You have 2 weeks worth of water left. You should just make a pick up if you can’t activate the ship.” the silver box continues “Check for life signatures, as your mission goals.”
“Well forget that life signature you saw here. The place is dead. Dead! Just like the two of us. Get another ship here. He can’t fix nothing without parts.” Rogers snaps back.
He touches the rusting wheel. His grandpa worked the waterline on Mars. He knew he wouldn’t be the one to die of thirst here.
Thank you Elaine Farrington Johnson for our photo prompt this week!
Sharon ran through the house
“Samuel! You’re on the front page!” she yells across the house “Look!”
Reggie gets up from his chair to see his little boy on the page.
Mommy! Let me see too!” Samuel pops up from underneath the paper. “Just like Daddy said we changed the world. Didn’t we?”
Reggie casts a big grin at his son “Yeah, we sure did.”
His eyes move bad to the rest of the page. His mind says “No we didn’t”
Her mind weaves circles. The symbols are always there. She wipes her brow and closes her eyes.
The street is far more crowded than she thought it should be. Her fingers lightly squeeze a faded rose in her right hand. A insignificant scent drifts away. Much like Dawn as she finds a bench to hide on.
The city is a curious mystery. Nothing in Coldwater could prepare for the rush and bustle of people and more people. The masses hold a face that is there for her. It was foretold. The circle will be unbroken. Destiny and a purpose awaits her.
Her eyes strip away the faces from the crowd. His dark eyes and hair need to be here. Her soul demands it. Morning melts into afternoon but the faces never change.
She lifts up her backpack and thinks of a place to go. Still the circles are everywhere. She knows he is close.