Hope and Despair on Great Bear

Face to Face

Before all this, I'd always complain about being hungry.

'Momma, I'm hungry, make me some food.'

I had three damn meals a day and still I'd cry about being hungry. I think of this now, as I'm trapped in a roadside cabin. I'm not reflecting on this because I am hungry, although I will be soon if I don't get out of here. I'm reflecting on this because of what I just saw when I looked out the window of this wooden box.

A bear stood on the other side, breathing against the glass. Me stood on the inside, staring right back. I can't rightly describe what I saw, but I'll try.

In those eyes, those black beads that gazed right back at me, I saw nothing. No emotion. All I could see was my own reflection. Those eyes were like a mirror to the afterlife, a premonition, and I took centre stage. There was no anger, no ill-will, no bad meaning or personal grudges. This thing was here to eat, and it would rip me apart without even blinking. Those black eyes looked at me, so calm that I got lost in them. This bear was the grim reaper on my door step, and he let me know it in that moment. He was here to kill me. No, in fact, he wasn't. He didn't care if I died. All he cared about was that every edible strand of flesh that clung to my bones was digesting in his stomach, every organ torn apart. Then, and only then, would I be free to walk away, when all that was left of me was my crushed skeleton. Only then could I walk off into the sunset. When I was met with that colossal black face at the window, that stone cold killer, I froze. The hairs on my arms stood rigid, because I had a realisation.

Humans are not designed to survive in this world. Not in the freezing, scarce wastelands. We can fight it, sure. We can try our best to find our foothold and rebuild. But this world belongs to them now. To the bears, to the wolves, the birds. This apocalypse is here to rid the world of the parasite that is us, humanity. Mankind. And if the ice doesn't freeze us, and the hunger doesn't topple us, then the wildlife will. They will come to our doorstep.

The grim reaper is at my doorstep, and it's eyes are darker than deepest ocean.