When I close my eyes, I see ...

*

A soft green meadow. The buzz of children playing, adults chatting. A harvest mouse scurries by, a litter of five in tow.

“Sorry,” he says, “No time to talk.”

The scent of hay and roses, the earthy smell of freshly rained upon soil and leaves. A murmuration of starlings; a red kite soaring in the cloudless azure sky. A robin’s playful tune.

A raven, tall and proud, descents from an ancient oak laden with acorns, and lands on the grass beside me.

“It has been a long time,” she says.

“It has,” I agree with Merlina, and ask, “How are the young ones?”

/

Concrete boxes: clusters of stacked, grey dens to house the last of humankind. Small windows, plastered with opaque, milky layers. The salty residue covers every surface and every person who ventures out. The sound of waves crashing into the three hundred feet tall, steel and concrete barrier that holds back the ocean. The water isn’t done with us yet. It is rising, expanding, reclaiming territory. Pushing us, to huddle closer on our withering grey islands. Driving the blue planet’s final land-dwelling species to extinction.

//

A brilliantly glowing atmosphere. A gentle lilac, laced with wisps of fleeting, pink and yellow ribbons. A Tuscan sun and two amber moons – nigh to conjoined – hover over the horizon. In my garden, a crop of ... how shall I describe it ... pea-sized orange Brussels sprouts.

My neighbour waves at me. Haranta is a pretonian from Lactona, a planet six million lightyears from here. ‘Here’ is Robolea, home planet to the zeliae (a birdlike species with short legs and red and pink mottled wings), only five lightyears from Earth. It was the first interspecies planet we were invited to share, when the alliance made contact.

///

Barren soil, scorched trees, a graveyard of the constructs of a species which had the potential to be great. At my feet a Geiger counter rattles, its needle tapping the tiny rod of what was once considered the upper limit. Not long now, then this final gadget will expire too. Something moves. I startle. A scorpion exits a soot crusted shelter. It pauses, and – am I imagining it? – looks upon me with a mixture of pity and disdain.

////

“And the sixth?”

Her pupils vied for her attention; this was an easy one.

“Prrty?”

“Holocene. A thousand years ago. It was the result of human activity, unchecked population growth and overexploitation of natural resources. Millions of species vanished from Earth or were brought to the brink of extinction. Humans were the final group to disappear. It was the beginning of the Corvidian age.” Her blue eyes glistening, the young two-foot-tall Corvus corone returned to her branch.

*

When I close my eyes, I fantasise about the future. A tomorrow I, and most of us – regretfully or thankfully –, will never experience.

It is a world, though, that we create today, for generations to come. A life, our children will thank or curse us for.

The unexpected.

A cool breeze and the aroma of spring. It’s out of time, and out of place. A busy commuter station, at 8 am on Monday morning. In autumn.

What if …

The ordinary.

The lady at the checkout smiles and hands me my change, “There you go, my dear.”

But, is that really a happy smile? And, what’s that sticky stuff on my pennies?

What if …

Boredom.

My manager drones on. And, as I tune out, my imagination kicks in. His socks don’t match. What’s that stain on his shirt? It’s brownish red. Coffee or, dried …?

What if …

The unexpected, the ordinary. Boredom. Life is inspiration.

Look over your shoulder.

Now.

Forget you’re all grown up, and ask: “What if …”

She slowed down as she stepped out of the empty station building, into the vast expanse of nothingness. Caila looked over her shoulder and witnessed how the last building disappeared into the ground. She almost got the giggles, as a thought popped into her mind, “All services have been suspended until further notice.”

She turned back to face the Neteru, who was now standing behind her, “Has everything gone, Mateos? Everywhere?”

“No, not everything, but we did remove most the buildings and the infrastructure, together with all contaminants and weapons.”

Caila slowly spun around and took in the breathtaking panorama around her. Instead of offices and high-rises, she saw only trees and parks. The beautiful red and orange shades of the autumnal trees had replaced the greys of this once great city. In a few years’ time, it would be beautiful again.

She looked up at Mateos and smiled, he had delivered on his promise. This morning, she had witnessed no distress or suffering, while humans were removed from Earth.

The scent of spring, used to create a sense of euphoria during the Event, still lingered in the air. It produced an intoxicating aroma in combination with the smell of the freshly fallen autumn leaves. Caila took a deep breath, this was the scent of a new beginning, the scent of a new chance for Earth.