Aftermath of a Nuclear Winter

Awoken

You feel something soft tickling your nose. You scrunch your nose and roll over onto your back, feeling the short, soft blades of grass and moss under your body, tickling any skin uncovered by your clothes. A gentle, cold breeze brushes against you, and you feel goosebumps form on your skin.

You slowly open your eyes, rubbing the blurriness from your eyes as you look up into the sky. The sky is neither bright nor dark, instead filled with a soft light gray from thick clouds overhead. You slowly sit up, your back oddly not sore from lying on a bed of moss. You look around.

Your eyes are drawn to a large rock formation overhead. You're sitting near a craggy cliff. Or is it a mountain? You can't clearly tell, as the air is cold with fog blanketing the rocks around you. You can see through the fog lower to the ground, the grass beneath you stretching out as far as the eye can see before disappearing beyond your vision. As you turn your attention higher, you can only see so much of the rocks before they vanish into the white fog.

So you close your eyes and you listen. The world around you is almost eerily quiet, save for the soft whooshes of the wind and grass, and your own quiet breathing. Wait, you do hear something else. The soft rippling of water fills your ears.

Your hands rest on the ground as you adjust your sitting position, the grass beneath you soft against your hands. You look down from the rock formations to try and find the source of the sound, spotting a large pond only a few yards away from you, mostly enveloped in mist.

Where are you? You've never been here, and this place, this world, is completely alien to you. You feel a sense of familiarity, but you don't know why.

Your mind is clear, plagued only by questions. You remember not how you got here or what this place is. However, despite your curiosity, you aren't afraid. You feel safe, you don't feel as if you are in danger. You don't feel lost. Only curious.

Your throat is dry. You stand up, your movements sluggish and a little weak since you just woke up.

You make your way toward the pond, and as you get closer, you begin to hear more sounds. The rippling of the water becomes clearer to you, and you shiver as another chilled breeze blows against your body, forming more goosebumps on your skin.

As you near the pond, you see clearer as well, the mist seeming to part from the body of water.

You pad over to the water's edge, kneeling down in the soft, damp moss. You feel the morning dew from atop the moss soak your knees. There are no fish swimming in the pond, but you see small vibrant green plants between the rocks in the shallow water. You lean forward, cupping your hands and plunging them into the frigid water before taking a drink. The water tastes almost sweet, and it's crisp, fresher than any water you can remember drinking before.

Once you drink your fill, you lean back on your knees, sighing as you look up at the sky. You close your eyes as yet another breeze blows by, seeming to fly through you. It fans your face and flows through your hair, tousling it about. The breeze flows through your clothes, blowing them around a little bit and giving you goosebumps beneath the fabric. With another sigh, you open your eyes as the breeze passes, and you rub your cold hands together as you lean forward slightly.

You stare into the rippling crystal clear water at your reflection.

There you are. Your hair's a bit messy, and you look a bit tired, but you're okay. No wounds or blemishes to be found. You're not hurt, and you realize you're not scared. You're not angry or sad. You're not even lonely. You feel safe, calm even.

You take a deep breath, resting your hands at your sides, digging your fingers into the moss. It's soft, cold, and damp. You smile, closing your eyes as you hear the gentle swooshing of the grass and the rippling of the water. You feel another breeze blow against the side of your face, and you take in a deep breath.

You are here.

You don't know why, but you are. And even though you're alone, it's beautiful. Or perhaps that's why it's beautiful. You don't know, and you don't care. Because here, alone with the grass and the water and the fog and your thoughts, you're happy. You want to see more.

You open your eyes, and you see the water shimmering, as if inviting you in. You lift your hands from the moss and stand up, shaking no more. Your body is strong, confident. You remove your shoes and hold them up as you take a step forward. You shudder as your feet are plunged ankle-deep into the chilly water, but you can't help but laugh as well. You laugh out loud, like a gleeful child as you wade deeper and deeper into the water until you're in the center of the pond, where the water goes up to just below your knees. It's cold, but bearable. A grin makes its way to your face and you laugh joyfully as you're reminded that you are alive, that you're truly okay.

You want to see more. You feel this urge, this itch in the back of your mind, tugging at your heart to see more. You look in the direction into the hills where the fog had lessened, as if calling for you to explore. You take in a sharp breath before huffing excitedly, wading out of the water and out to the opposite shore, still carrying your shoes. The soft grass and moss tickle your cold, bare feet, and you decide to keep walking. You walk toward the hills, shoes in hand.

You may be lost, but that doesn't mean you need to be afraid. 

Photo by Sebastian Hönigsperger