In the Afterglow

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The faintly silver and white rocks scramble over one another as they tumble from the trough of the refurbished yet faulty excavator. The fashion of that brutal wave fits this place. I move my hand to the lever to bring the trough back up - it doesn't respond immediately. Nor does the excavator.

One of the other workers see's my vehicle lagging. Through the gray haze, I see him begin to trudge over. It's odd how quickly anyone can become a brother to you. Fraternal bonds formed from the sprouting seeds of death. Each of us, then all of us, soon none of us.

As he gets closer to the metal cabin of the beast, I see his features differently through the smudged glass. His withered face turns to a rounder, kinder thing. His eyes are green like mine. Like my son. Forgetting is painful. Yet in that moment, remembering is agony.

"I can finish up. Rest now." His voice comes gently as he opens the door. As he moves my hands from the controls, a bit of my skin sticks to the lever.

While my failing eyes watch him work, I see him morph further. Slipping deeper into the image of my love and my loss. We came here to die. Secretly though, we all hope to see our loved ones one last time, born again by the sickly glow.

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WC: 230