Saturday, December 20, 2014

Not Just Pictures

Occasionally I won't put visual art here, and instead a short story or poem. This is one of those times.
Droplets of sulfur rested on black trees. The air was light, and to get a good breath,you really had to struggle. But people survived. It was day two, and the eternal night was gone. Now, they had a good long day ahead. Many of them would make it through, and in good health, too. But their science couldn't keep them all around. They were half an hour through through and Phil was fourteen minutes old; by no means the first.
The arid dirt whipped itself up into a dust devil behind him. Dark yellow dirt filled the soles of his shoes as he walked. He wasn't going anywhere in particular; just wandering. There where many places yet to be discovered and explored. Phil fit a mask over his face, so that he could get more air and go a little faster. He jumped into a canyon in a dusty cloud of dirt, and landed softly. There were no trees here; this place hadn't yet been reached.

The sinuous, contorted shapes of the rocks had a certain wonder about them that he didn't want muffled by trees. But that wasn't for him to decide. Yet. He scrambled up a large stone without any fear of falling. The landscape was filled with huge, smooth mountains and sharp dips. Also trees, in places. Yellow was the color that dominated. Dark, smooth yellow. People said it was a calming color. The houses were everywhere. They were made to blend in though, so they didn't stand out. There was enough atmosphere above for a light purple sky.