Walking the Ruins

Fight

Taking my eyes off my reflection in the glass, I turn. The street is deserted. A huff makes me look at the opposite pavement, and I see it. A bear, gazing at the world with beady, short-sighted eyes. It slowly moves its head left and right. Then it stands on its hind legs, sniffing the air.

I look to the right, where the others have disappeared from my view. I am all alone.

"Help! Steve, Rose!" My weak voice carries nowhere, losing itself in the trees and the ruins.

What are you supposed to do when facing a bear? I read about this once, but my memory draws a total blank. Should I play dead? Freeze? Run away?

I move backward. My hand makes contact with the building behind me, the one with the shop window, where I have contemplated my reflection only seconds ago. Wasn't there an entrance somewhere? l take a step to the right, and another one, following the wall while keeping my eyes on the animal. My fingers find an edge, like the frame of a door, and I turn.

No, this is not the door frame. The entrance is further along the street. I start to run, and I hear a scratching noise behind me.

A blow hits my backpack, throwing me to the floor. One of the straps comes loose. I detach myself from the other one then roll away, stopping next to the doorway. Looking back, I see the bear, sniffing the pack. Maybe it smells the apples or the duck. It starts licking it. Then it raises its head, looking straight at me.

I get to my feet and lunge myself through the entrance. Inside, it's dark. I stumble over some junk cluttering the floor, lose my balance and fall again.

The bear stands in the doorway. It tilts its head and huffs, then it approaches, slowly, deliberately, as if time were of no importance. As if secure in the knowledge that its victim has no chance of escape. It may be right.

I'm frozen, lying on my back, unable to move.

Reaching me, it places one of its front paws on my chest. The touch is gentle, like a mother's who is comforting her child. I try to scream, but fear constricts my throat.

We lock eyes. The animal's stare is vacant. Humid, primordial breath washes over my face.

The pressure from its claws on my chest grows stronger, and then an jolt and searing pain tears into my shoulder and face, like an explosion ripping the world apart. And I fall.

Images haunt me. Images from the old world, images from the new one, and others. I observe as they evolve and pass. A powerless spectator Just watching. Devoid of power—just me.

***

I stand on a shore, a turquoise sea in front of me. I hold someone's hand, a hand much larger than mine. My mother's hand. She smiles at me. I hold on to her, with all my might, never wanting to let her go. Her hand is safety and shelter and home.

Seeking her closeness, I press myself against her side. Happy voices and laughter surround us, children are playing on the sandy beach descending gently into the surf. My father is in the water, waving a hand. He is far out, very far.

Way too far.

I remember this day, a day from my childhood. It was the last time that I saw him. The strong currents carried him off, they told me, later.

I cry.

***

Jenny stands beside Steve. They are talking. She holds his hand. Steve looks at me, smiling. Jenny pulls him away.

***

A tall, elegant building in a city beside a river. A smooth façade of glass, the blue of the sky and the dark shape of a tree reflected in its windows. With incredible speed, dark clouds gather. Night descends, briefly, followed by a new dawn only moments later. The weather changes. Another night, another day. Faster and faster, the days, months and years chasing each other. The windows of the building turn dull. More and more of them disappear—ripped away by the mighty teeth of time.

A time lapse video spanning centuries.

Time slows again.

A girl steps onto the terrace at the top of the building, approaches its rim, and stumbles.

***

A bear. No, two... three bears. A mother and her litter. She is lazing in the sun, the little ones try to climb her. The mother utters a good-natured growl, shaking off her offspring. Her gaze meets mine. There is no emotion in her eyes.