Imprinted memories of a home I’ve never seen flash behind my eyes and my awakening begins. Earth served only as a sort of nursery school. Now it’s time for my extraction, and I am prepared. I scan the horizon for the vessel.
The last of the ozone layer dissipated but by this time, no one remained alive on Earth to see the final phase of planetary destruction. The few of us carefully selected to salvage the human race, watched from afar.
She loved the scent of raw earth and admired the power of nature.
Thunder rumbled like marching giants and a lightning bolt set the sky ablaze. She leaned in, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply smelling the aroma of roses mixed with dirt and imminent rain. She loved the scent of raw earth and admired the power of nature.
The rose bushes on Martin’s unmarked grave had grown immensely in a relatively short time. They helped to hide the sadness of loss with their thriving spirit.
It was two years passed, on another stormy night, when the Goddess decided Martin was not meant for this world. Alone, she screamed with the raging storm as his lifeless body emerged. Far from town and with no friends or family to speak of, she mourned unaccompanied and processed her grief as her tears fell with the pouring rain.
Martin’s father had gone off to sea before he knew she was with child and had not returned, so alone she buried his little body and planted roses to give him life after death.
She reconciled with the earth and accepted the necessary balance within the universe. Though she could not fully understand the plans of the Goddess, she recognized that there was an order to it all, beyond her comprehension.
The rain finally began to fall. She sat by the rose bushes on the damp ground with legs crossed. She hummed a tune and ran her hands through the soil as she turned her face toward the sky and let the cool liquid wash over her. Alone she praised the Goddess and felt her heart at peace.