Eulogy Chapter 0.2

Sunset

Light filtered through the motes of ash kicked up along the path. New puffs sent currents of rainbow light from under the boy. Dustings of ash scattered rays across the copper sheen of the polarized visor. The steely carapace of the helmet, blackened by soot, bobbed against the horizon. Gloves rose to scrape grime from his field of vision. One shake of hidden hands and another cloud rose from the earth.

The air had grown still, the path would persist for as long as there was an observer. Blackness tinted the edges of white bulbous boots. Ridges along chunky soles caked with night soil from countless steps. The boy looked back, saw nothing but a meandering trail, and placed his left before his right.

The boy's neck groaned in pain. His long-lost count of steps faded further into the desert. An entire lifetime hadn't changed the endless expanse. When the boy's head came up-- the horizon remained unbroken. No plateaus or ridges, only a unbreathing ember land. He could see and see and see; the world was flat.

Glimmering jets threw themselves into the air. The rear of his hazmat suit met the ground. Burnt remains contrasted against the bleached yellow-green exterior. A crimson orb hung low in the sky, it held the blame. That damn ball prepared to pass from life to death. The boy hit the dimmer switch on his visor--it became clear. Olive green eyes stood out against blooded whites. Fading light caught them; they flashed pale green. The boy only felt the shift and shivered. Brows furrowed and he rubbed his stinging eyes. He was sure that this time his lids wouldn't rise again. Nothing had changed.

His auburn hair fell over his eyes. Light faded and they transformed to moss-etched stones in a lake. A deep pit opened while he watched the world die again. The sky opened up. He stared for a long-long-long moment. He gazed at ridges of mountains. He saw the glow of distant valleys. He spoke to the sea between them. His vision took him to a lion and a viper, they grew. For only an endless second he could feel...again.

Straps on his bag came undone. He grabbed a nutrient bar. Every one of them tasted like shit. He peeled back the wrapper and hit the helmet again--visor retracted. His eyes had faded completely. The green was unrecognizable from black. The tip of the bar pushed past his charcoal-stained lips. He chewed slowly and softly. The memory of pleasant taste eluded the moment. Chewing was comforting. Maybe it was nostalgia from when food wasn't trash. His jaw muscles repeated the movement until the entire bar was gone. All that was left was the wrapper. His stomach was full and he dropped it onto the ground. The shiny foil looked disgusting in contrast.