Epilogue

-This is another ending to, presumably, the same story. Maybe like the ending before that other ending. Don't expect it to make sense...


Epilogue

He stood there, alone. The city had seem to go silent in memoriam, and above the skies shone undisturbed; a gleam of blue on his face. There was no traffic on the roads or in the air, just quiet. Only the sounds of rustled wind and a crunching leaf beneath his boot spoke out into the silence. And yet he could hear voices. Voices of the men, the lost and the living all around him, as if he were back in the desert, in the fields, in the wastelands. Women cried out to him. He couldn’t tell what they were saying, but he understood. Help. Stop. Save us. Memories like these don’t fade.
Colors do though.
Green gave way to maroon and auburn, a sign of death, and rebirth. Like the colors of the unrelenting, repressive flag, which have been washed away in blood and soil. Yet while bare branches replace the cool greens, this symbol is replaced by hope.
By an idea.
A new enlightenment, reasoned thinking, thinking at all. Suddenly threatened minds felt a ping of anxiety and subtle acceptance into a society where they were no longer ignored. No longer forced to be quieted or shunned.
Eventually we would rebuild. He was sure of it. But for now the ruins remained. For now the remnants of isolation still hung in these crumbled streets beneath him. Healing takes time. But he had all the time in the world, they all did.
Ahead of him lay a clearing. A few scattered blades of grass lay strewn amidst the opening and on top of them stood a sheep. Its white coat gleamed with sunlight, something so strange to the utopian aftermath and the broken concrete. He walked towards it, possessed by its beauty, its simplicity, and the voices disappeared. The sights of the city vanished. No sound came to his ears. Everything seemed to fade around the white cloud, a symbol of good. And he kept walking.
The animal glanced up, its mouth full, and blinked. It had the eyes of a child. Big, glass pupils fixed on him and he froze. He kept his distance so as not the frighten it, but to his surprise, the sheep approached him. It trotted over the mangled urban floor and the grass began to wilt. The sun appeared to be sucking its light from the clearing and it began to take the shape of the usual lifeless city courtyard. But darkness avoided the little sheep as it strode towards him. It was spotlighted and so alive. The space between the two was evaporating and the brightness was beginning to engulf him. His complexion softened and his muscles relaxed. His eyes fell shut. He opened his mouth to inhale a breath and calming warmth settled in his throat and in his lungs. Then there was an explosion.
The noise rang out like a sonic boom, encroaching on his peace as it always did. His eyes shot open and he was looking at a blank landscape.
Healing takes time.