Thin lines of shimmering orange peaked through the clouds. Yesterday’s stars slept undisturbed like stillborns untouched by the worries that would befall their bearers. Silence gripped the city tight, afraid to let lose, patches of red still fresh on its delicate lips. Fear bloomed as flowers woke from murky dreams.
Gunya was awake. Darkness surrounded her. She couldn’t see, only hear. She tried to recall the horrors of the night. It seemed to elude her. She was blinded. The force was too much.
Four people in a day, swallowed up in one big gulp by Bringer of Death?
She shivered as a low ‘phew’ was heard quite near her.
Has she lost her mind too? She didn’t think anyone survived. Oh, probably some did, like her. They would have found shelter too. Only thing, a few blocks of concrete or an electric wire might have fallen on them leaving them forever disabled and with nobody to care for.
The dead were lucky.
A minute passed.
An hour went by. All was still apart from the ‘phew’.
Was she to go out? Who was she to trust? Can this be the saviour of her dreams?
Her world was dark. She wouldn’t be able to see anyway. Thank God she knew colour before. Black is best now. All was black. Black is what’s left.
She opened the door. Even as more orange shone on the outside her world was forever blackened.
She followed the low ‘phew’. She walked towards the sound. She saw nobody. Yet heard the ‘phew’ loud and clear now. She was quite sure she was right by it, he, her – whoever it was.
Colour is good, she thought. At least colour let her see the enemy and the friend before she reached them. This way, she knew nothing. She saw nothing. She wanted to see.
“Bend”, the voice commanded.
Gunya stopped. “It speaks. And it is a he. But it speaks death,” she thought to herself.
She bent.
“What do you see?” it asked.
“Black,” she whispered, uncertainly.
“Black?” There was some sort of resentment in its voice. There was fear too.
Black.
Death is black. Life is black. Her future is black.
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