Genesis
Abigail Bobst
If I’m being honest with myself, I feel a greater need to apologize to my mom than to
God. I’m sorry I didn’t end up wherever you are. I’m sorry I slept in, past those brassy alarm
bells. I’m sorry for letting my last goodbye slip through my sinful fingers. And I’m sorry to the
Sun; That there’s only one pair of eyes to greet you this morning.
The view from the damned’s terrace feels a million miles away from the rest of the world.
Wherever I look, there’s a black void separating me from the sights and smells of the Earth.
Whatever space there is between a photo and reality, that’s where I now live. I lift a hand I find
by my side and wrap the fingers around a coffee cup. I force the hand to dip the cup into my
mouth. It tastes clear. Not like water but rather what I imagine the number 0 would taste like.
——————
Without even realizing it, I actually waited for the crosswalk signal to turn to that little
white, walking man. I can’t hear my footsteps as the legs beneath me drag themselves across the
street. The air feels thick as it flows through my ears, but there’s no wind. I can’t even taste the
familiar colors of our local supermarket. Obviously the ‘Hills Market’ sign is still a vivid shade
of green. I can see that plainly. But if I stare at the sign for more than half a second, the color
runs away like a skittish deer. I’m brought to the entrance by my feet which feel increasingly like
a stranger’s with each step. But the automatic sliding doors don’t open. Did the Trumpeters take
electricity with them too when they flew in? Or did I forget the human part of my soul back at
the apartment? Maybe someone made a mistake and only dragged half of my soul along. Where
did my other half end up, I wonder? Am I deserving of eternal honey and sweetness or would I
be a feast for the maggots down below?…Perhaps it’s better for this half not to know. I pry the
door open myself and take the usual path to get to my must-have meals.
I debate between purchasing the bulk pack of instant ramen or just buying a handful to
get me through the week. It might be wiser to just get a handful. My paycheck isn’t coming in till
next week. And I should probably be cooking more for myself anyways. I decide on the handful
and approach the registers; Shocked when I’m once again reminded of the thick air and fleeting
colors. Am I really the last standing artifact of the human race?…Perhaps it’s better for this half
not to know. Perhaps I should be grateful. I figure neither Heaven nor Hell have instant ramen.
I feel like a thief as I stuff my food into those little plastic grocery bags. My feet get
ahead of themselves and begin stepping away before I look back over my shoulder; Half hoping
to see a cashier there to scold me. But it looks like I really am about to get away with this. I pull
out my purse and stuff a $5 bill into the tip jar.
——————
The apartment feels like an abandoned mall now. I imagine the rest of the world does too,
but I’m too scared to check. For all that fretting I did over the ramen purchase, I ended up
skipping dinner; Breakfast and lunch too. It’s scary to lose your appetite, but I imagine I would
cry out in pain if I ate and tasted nothing again.
I’m especially sorry to the moon tonight; That there’s only these thankless eyes to admire
you now. Though I also have to thank you for your understanding. My pupils seem to have
scared away all the colors of the world today. But I know you’re still shining that same pale tint.
Maybe the colors of the world escaped you too today. It’s okay. I know how you feel.
Now it’s just you and me. I guess God left you behind too. But don’t you think that’s a
rather cruel thing? People used to write poems worshiping your brilliance; Expectantly searching
for meaning in your eyes and finding it in empty pockets of time. You didn’t deserve this. If
anyone belongs up there with a choir of angels, it’s you. But you know what? Since it’s just you
and me now, doesn’t that make us divine in our own right? No one’s here to define our limits
anymore. No one’s here to tell me it’s impossible to grow my own wings and escape from this
tasteless place. And no one’s here to tell you it’s impossible to be diamond-shaped in your next
life, if you please.
I vow to you, we will do better. We’ll make the world kinder and full of sweeter things.
We’ll have honey flow from rivers and feasts hang from trees. We’ll make cocktails of CO2 and
oxytocin flood into the lungs of our loved ones. I’ll stay alive long enough for you. I’ll leave one
of my children behind to make the world slightly kinder. And I promise you: We won’t stop until
we get it right
I close my eyes and rest for a bit. I swear I forgot to switch the lights off. But I don’t
question the soothing darkness now surrounding me. It’s just nice to have a void that isn’t
colorless again.