Not All Is Bad

It really wasn't surprising how fast city folk would turn on each other.

This weekly trip to the city was a horrible idea. People practically threw themselves at each other, grabbing at items others had looted from stores. As soon as I’d seen it, I turned around and absolutely booked it, clutching at my baskets. The city was bad enough on one of the Good Days, but with the power being out, everyone was so much worse. Rabid and uncaring of how things were.

The fields of my homeland, thankfully, remained empty, at least as much as they had always been. Locals, aka four other people, were kind and unphased by the chaos of the cities nearby. Sometimes, we would watch roaring cars as they made streaks of black rubber across the rocky roads.

Our forests remained empty, which was somewhat surprising considering how much city folk claimed to adore camping; logically this would be a wonderful opportunity, but I guess that’s not how they see it.

“Hey! Ya know that cities never gonna clear up! It’s never worth it, hun!” Dani, a direct neighbour of mine, called from the roadside as I approached. Her basket, hand-made and adorably decorated with ribbons, was filled with bundled herbs and filled jars of fruit. Her haul was much better than mine.

“It was even worse! Gods, you should have seen them! Like wild hounds!” I cackled, running over to her. “It’s such a shame though... Bella’s always had the best flowers.”

“We grow our own, sweetheart, why even take the risk?” Her fingers ruffled at my hair, barely having to reach up considering her height advantage.

“It’s still fun!”

“Don’t whine, dear. Come now, we have chores to do!” Dani, loving the opportunity to mother me more than she usually does, put on her sing-song voice to persuade me.

She really didn’t need to try, I’d always listen to her.

• • • • • • • •

With the animals rounded up, herbs collected, water poured, and alters prepared for a new day, we all gathered outside for a nightly ritual.

“Guess we don’t need to start a campfire tonight.” Hugo, a wonderous carver and animal magnet, voiced. And he was right, with the inferno consuming the tall buildings of the nearest city, we had a perfect fire to watch and pray to. I’m sure our local fire spirits were overjoyed by the offering.

We could all sense their happiness, it was practically bouncing off of the buildings and ricocheting back to us. Tonight was a ritual for them, the offering was taken care of, so we just had to strengthen and invoke them.

“Bring forth from the flame, the spirits of its core.

Let them howl and sing for more;

We offer fire, so pour.

Spirits of flame, the strength to bore,

And flamed eyes of four;

We open up a door,

Now you may consume like a boar.” We all spoke at once, allowing our voices to climb and pound at the air like the smoke tearing through weak lungs.

The city lit up like a match, seething within itself and reaching for a new height. The chant had worked; fire spirits tore towards the city and sparked themselves into a brighter flame.

We rejoiced amongst ourselves, fully recharged and cleansed for a night of dreams. The Good Days didn’t seem as grand anymore.

City folk seemed so much weaker without their electricity, but maybe we had grown. What a loss for them. Clearly, not all is bad as the electricity of homes fizzled out like dying bugs all across the world.