On the Wings of Hope: Prose (Recognized)

Plant louse

The Plant Louse gradually and unstoppably crept downhill a mountain.

The wind was blowing into her face, howling and as if begging to stop, the sun was mercilessly scorching her back, which has already become covered in scabs, here and there all of a sudden some holes-hollows of unknown origin were popping up. But she confidently continued her journey downwards – for there on the lowland, as it seemed, a paradise of eternal and lazy pleasure has been awaiting her. Her impetuous mind drove and pushed her forward – there, to the undiscovered downhill distances – and, methodically moving her legs, she obeyed her master and lord remorselessly.

Recently the Louse has dined with her own relative – dead, of course, – which she has found in a pool of blood, already warmed up by the scorching sun. Her comrade-in-arms by the absence of reason has been probably dying in agony, – some of his legs have been dead-burnt by a star and their ashes have already been swept by a wind, and some green viscous poisonous substance of inconceivable for the Louse nature has been flowing from his stomach. That's why the Louse has disdained a substance – for only goodness knows, what lurks there, inside them, Louses, right? – but semi-blind eyes and some poor excuses of ears have appeared to be rather appetizing, as well as the remnants of the brain, still not totally decayed. The Louse, probably, would not even touch the remains of her colleague, if not for that painful hunger, which has been torturing her during the last days of a journey There. The Louse had not the slightest idea of why this unstoppable bloodlust has suddenly arisen in her, but it has been growing and strengthening with each passing day. Truly hard is the burden of the chosen ones, trying to reach the true paradise, indeed.

It seemed that very little effort was required for now. Certainly, the Louse couldn't view all the horizon of her path – only a small piece of it, still visible for her eternally bent head and weak-sighted eyes – but, nevertheless, it appeared to her that the paradise is almost there, just a few more steps and then, finally...

From time to time the Louse dreamt of wings. Of those true wings, possessed by flying heavenly giants, whose shades she sometimes saw on the ground. Plant louses called those ones as Angels – Messengers of Heavens. Indeed, they had the possibility to behold their shades, their pity reflection only – but even this sight sometimes bewitched their poor excuses of souls... The Louse did never gazed into the Heavens – was simply incapable to do so soul-genetically, so to speak. Initially, her relatives were terrified of these heavenly ambassadors, believing that they feed on them, Plant Louses, and can devour them, – but, as multi-thousand-year practice has shown, plant lice did not interest them, – were too tiny, probably... The Louse thirsted to fly – just simply stand up and soar to heavenly heights, to see all her way, to say so, from bird's flight perspective. Once upon a time the Louse overheard with the edge of her semi-bitten off ear, that their ancient ancestors have had some semblance of tiny wings – and they even could fly up low from time to time, – as though in semi-jumps – but after that something has changed in their organisms, was broken – and since that times only rudiments of those former wings were left. And thus the entire race of plant lice has forgotten how's that – to fly...

The Louse masterfully continued the movement, methodically rolling her legs. She was, to say the least, sort of a champion – one of the best ones. Almost ninety percent of her relatives have died out, competing among themselves of who can crawl There before all others and make the first mark on this new land – but this very Louse confidently continued her journey. Some louses died from thirst, being unable to drink some turbid black slime, shining with all colors of a rainbow under the sun, which the Louse has encountered in the form of some small puddles, no doubt left by the Maker himself. The brain of others simply fused under the fiery sun. Some went completely blind and started spinning round and round, plaintively cheeping in a vain hope to earn a small bit of sympathy from competing brothers. Someone broke several own legs and was devoured by his starved colleagues. Some became deaf and ceased to hear inviting shouts of their leaders in their common journey There, and, thus, hopelessly lagged behind. And some gave up on everything by wing, laid down on a burnt grass, closed his eyes and stiffened. To cut a long story short, were a few worthy ones remained. And that Louse was one of those lucky.

The Louse has just finished eating the newly found corpse of her comrade-in-luck, and was going to continue advancing as all of a sudden something has sharply and desperately changed in all her surroundings. Unknown huge and incomprehensible shadow covered the earth ground in all possible vicinity, something great and unstoppable has suddenly begun moving towards the Louse – and towards the entire race of plant lice, moving in ranks... something greatly dreadful for them, plant lice.

"Oh, did He really exists?!" the Louse has had a few moments of time left to think. "Oh, forgive us for our Lousy way of life!" she urged to peep, but there was no more time left.

Someone has smashed the Louse and all her colleagues in a single step, thus finally and inevitably solving a question with a fate of all these... non-humans.

26.11.2010