Fiction Five00-8

The Smog

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Standing on turf for centuries I had lost count of the years. But I can vouch that I had seen a thousand times sun rising and spreading its auriferous glow on the planet. I had seen numerous clear nights. Nights without haze, filled with stars, when the moon glowed like a silver ball. And it was during the stillness of such nights she would come down, sprinkling the sphere with stars. Stars that shimmered like sequins in the horizon.

 I would stand in awe and look at her weaving magic in the welkin. She tip-toed the zenith quietly from one end to the other. And just before the arrival of the dawn, she conjured up with Ersa* sprinkling dews with elan. The dews fell like a magic potion making everything fresh and vibrant preparing them for another day.

It has been quite some time now, more than decades… I wonder why she did not show up? I could not move around to find her whereabouts. So, in quietude I opened up my heart to Zephyrus*. He understood my pain and promised me to look for her. One day coming from the north, Zephyrus whispered that she does show her presence but on the mountains.

“The plains are now infested with pollution.” Said Zephyrus coughing. The pollution had not spared his health and made him weak too. “Upon the mountain tops the air is clean. I go there to rejuvenate myself. Milky Way still shows up there.”

How I yearned to be crested upon the hills, to get her glimpse. I wanted to show her my new boughs and my tender leaves. I wanted to show her that I had survived all these years even when my own saplings which I tended so fondly were torn down. I knew she would understand my pain, for she was there from the primordial time and had literally seen me grow.

“How can I see her again?” I heaved with the pain of my immobility.

“You are bestowed with the power to purify. That is the greatest strength you have got. Go ahead, sieve the toxins!” Zephyrus said dissolving into the thin air that he was.

Smog stretched over the land, dimming the visibility. Standing still, I reminiscence the days when everything was so clean and pristine. The overpowering pollution empowered by soot blocked my cells. A few days ago, some men were standing under my shade. I overheard them discussing about a flyover and how my trunk obstructed its way. I knew my days were numbered.

In that choking ambience, I inhaled the poison relentlessly, making my tender leaves burn. Not for anyone but for her, I kept inhaling the pollutants to purge the sphere. So that I could  have a glimpse of her before I fall. Zephyrus had reassured me that I could see her again…but I think it was a lie. 

GLOSSARY

Ersa: Greek Goddess of Dew

Zephyrus: Greek God of wind

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Photo By: Jeremy Thomas

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This is an entry for #TheLie #Five00-8, a room8 writing event –in 500 words.
Check out the event guidelines here: https://writers.artoonsinn.com/room8/thelie

Room8 appreciates your rating the story out of 10 in the comments.

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