Mallika Badwal – In the vast sky above, not a single star held its home, leaving behind nothing but darkness; had nowhere to go. Inside, Tom sat next to Clara’s bed, singing her to sleep as her small hand wrapped around his finger. Her eyes slowly fluttered to sleep, softly humming along as her father sang.
“Sleep, my little flame so small
Stars may fade, but not at all…”
Clara tugged on her father’s finger, “Papa, where are the stars?” She quietly pried, looking out at the empty sky. Tom softly smiled, “You outshined all the stars, my little flame.”
The next morning was the same. Full of despair, Tom stepped out into the neighbourhood as the buildings around him crumbled. Next door, a small group of neighbours gathered with their voices loud and angry.
“Tom! Look at the gardens, everything is drying up and the plants won’t longer.” Rhona said, shaking her head in disbelief.
Harold let a sharp breath out. “First the animals disappear, then the stars vanish and now our crops, how much longer can we endure this?” Tom stayed silent as he didn’t know how much time was left. He walked back inside to prepare some tea as Clara, still groggy, walked into the kitchen.
“Morning papa,” she murmured. Tom picked her up and kissed her forehead. “Morning, little flame.” She was all he had left and all he needed to protect. Clara grabbed her breakfast as she sat on the windowsill poking her oatmeal, looking at the sky outside.
“Why is the sky so gray today, where is the sun?”
“The sun is just resting.” Clara frowned, “Like mama?”
Tom froze, “Yeah, flame, just resting.” Clara nodded with a smile,
“When mama wakes up, can we go to the park even if the ducks don’t come back?”
“Yes, and we will have a big picnic, so the ducks have to come out!” Tom said, patting Clara’s head.
After the days passed, though, if you were to ask, no one could tell. The once vibrant sky lost all colour like a forgotten painting the colours washing away into a lifeless gray shadow. The sun came out once and vanished without a trace just as it appeared. Tom stood at Harold’s porch with a cigarette in between his fingers.
“I heard out west there are still crops growing, you should think about heading there,” Harold said.
“There is no point, it doesn’t matter how far we go, it will all follow.” Tom said, staring at the dead branches. Harold swallowed hard, “You think we have days?”
“I don’t know.”
“We were supposed to have more time.” Harold said, choking up.
“We were supposed to live, not waiting to die.” Tom said, looking into the street as Clara played with Harold’s children. That night felt different than the rest. For the first time, Tom was unsure if tomorrow was even promised; he held Clara extra tightly tonight.
“Papa, I’m scared.”
“Don’t worry, I’m here. Want me to sing until you fall asleep?” Clara nodded, hugging her father tightly, singing along.
“You are the light I’ll always keep
Even when the world-
-falls asleep.”
Photo contributor: Mallika Badwal
Leave a Reply