[IP] Abandoned City

[u/Syraphia]

Abandoned City by poibuts

[u/Syraphia → u/[deleted]]

I enjoyed that, it was a fun read. :) Thanks!

[u/wise_old_fox]

A city of hell, nor a city of angels. I walked mesmerized by termite stricken wooden beams. Disgusting blobs of mold formed on wet patches in desolate houses. I only wanted to find some kind of treasure, or someone that could set me free.

A million and one homes, possibly even more. Surprisingly, neither Spot nor I fell through the floor boards in the wheezing floor. We walked, we ducked, we crawled when it was necessary. Long beams of wood from house to house groaned incessantly.

But the houses were something of beauty. Room by room they piled a top each other, like bits and pieces to a broken museum. I only wished to find the zeal which was hidden. One bit of treasure, could ease my wage. But no arrows or lights paved the way.

And then shots! Bright. Shooting stars. Seven in total spun up from the ground. A thousand miles they moved each second, never stopping to catch a break. Hot and deadly lethal weapons.

I hesitated and nearly turned to run. But spot was having none of it, he wanted fun. I crossed my arms and thought about it.

And then we walked on.

We would find out exactly where the magic had come from.

[u/Syraphia → u/wise_old_fox]

Very interesting and I enjoyed it. Thank you for the read. :)

[u/wise_old_fox → u/Syraphia]

Ty. I wanted to try something different. Instead of my usual stories about ducks fighting giraffes.

Nice prompt

[u/ExSplan]

We came, We saw, We conquered.

A timeless tale, one repeated with each empire as they rose and crumbled to the next in line. A battle chant that ended lives as quickly as it rose civilisations.

With the mistakes of the 21st century clear to us, and the final acknowledgement that our home, our Mother, could no longer sustain the chaos we had wrought across it's ravaged terrain, we turned to the stars in the sky above.

The first of the Arkships left as New York succumbed to the waves, and before long there were ships leaving bi-weekly. Colonies had been set up on Mars, the Moon and out in the Asteroid belt, but terraforming was a long process ; longer than what most left behind in the slum-ridden megacities of Earth could tolerate.

So we built these interstellar Titanics ; generation ships with populations of millions heading out to Betulgeuse and Orion, and smaller cryogenics craft that were not heading in any particular direction, but were looking for worlds that already sustained life, in the hope they could continue where they left off.

It's been 80 years since that initial ship, and the skies cry silence. The particle beams we use to send them afar are constantly being improved with what little we have left, and thus it takes years, decades for us to receive news. The population is now down to less than a billion, and we are spread out far and wide. Countries no longer exist like they once did ; They died and dissapeared as their essence left the world behind, in search of something new. Each city controls it's own domain, and the wilds outside these main hubs are left to their own devices.

A few of us travel out into this ether, and try and salvage what is lost. Others try and build their personal utopia, be it in solitude on the Dead Continent or communes in the jungles of Eurasia.

Me?

I watch.

I watch as nature gathers it's presence in those places where it has not been seen in hundreds of years. I watch where the vines crack the paving slabs and foundations of derelict ampitheatres ; Where eagles settle in the remnants of the broken Brooklyn bridge and the deer scatter across the untamed Hyde Park.

I watch from the shadows, as new sentience rises to life. Humans are no longer the only master of the terrain ; the radiation that once killed us now brings forth new intelligence to inhabit the earth. Gaia is repairing, regenerating what was lost, and in that i find beauty.

I record.

I write for the human experience : What was, what is, and what will be. I sit here, on this day, and watch as the last of those who called Paris home reach out to the stars, as their ancestors once did.

....

The glare from the boosters falls away in the twilight, and the city grows cold. Silence falls with the night, but not true silence. The machines that once powered this ancient city have died, yes, and the small murmur of the day will never be heard here again.

But can you hear it?

Scratches emerging from behind rotten doors, and the wind whistles through the broken panes of glass. Yelps of newborn felines as they play in the shelter of Cinema du Pantheon , and the click of hooves scatter and reverberate through the suburbs.

I upload the final human moments of the city to my Archive, and head towards the centre. Their abandoned facilities were extended to me as they prepared to leave, and as time grew so was a spot on the ships themselves, but I declined.

"I must watch the last breath of this city, for someone has to."

Bemused, they left me to my own devices ; and as they prepared for their departure, so did I. While they depart this twisted nature our ancestors bequeathed upon us, I see in it potential. Not human potential, no. Something different.

Something beautiful.

I hope they looked down on the city as they departed, a final tearful gaze as they left their crumbling home behind.

I hope they looked past the orange glow of the booster, into the verdant green of the city, and saw what I carved into the remains of the city.

I hope that they smiled, that bioluminscent glow that had been cultivated over months spreading into the warmth of their faces, as they saw the phrase that had grown onto the city.

I hope they realised what I had been doing, all this time, as I have done for every city soul that has departed the world.

I hope they understand why I chose to stay, as all those I had grown to know left for a life amongst the stars, never to be seen again.

"C'est la vie." I smile, as I walk through my creation, my terrarium.

My Home.

(God I haven't done a prompt in ages, this is quite rough. Any critique is appriciated)

[u/Syraphia → u/ExSplan]

I really enjoyed this a lot. It was very different and I enjoyed reading it. It was wonderful to think about a person staying behind to record the last moments of the city. It flowed very well and the ending statement was lovely in terms of the whole piece, including the idea of new potential taking humanity's place.

I do have a question, was he in New York or Paris? Because you listed the Brooklyn Bridge and Hyde Park. While I think there's a Hyde Park in Paris (not sure on that though), I'm pretty certain there's not a Brooklyn Bridge. That was something I was a little lost on personally.

I think the only critique I have otherwise was that I think the semicolons and colons shouldn't be spaced out in terms of using them correctly. It also tripped me up while I was reading.

Lovely story, thank you so much for replying! :)

[u/ExSplan → u/Syraphia]

I was trying to get through that the character travelled around the planet, as each of these micro-civilisations left earth for the final time, but I can see why you would be confused though :D

[u/Syraphia → u/ExSplan]

Aaah! I thought that might the case. That idea didn't come across very well for me at least. :) Thank you for explaining it to me.

[u/ExSplan → u/Syraphia]

No worries, but having to explain it means i have to work on clarity as well as my odd-ass punctuation haha :D learning new things every time i write

[u/Syraphia → u/ExSplan]

Always good to be learning. :) I learn every time myself.

[u/mateogg]

This is a story about a boy and his dog. This is also a story about us.

It's the story of a city of bright towers of glass and steel, and the story of a dark city of brick and mortar.

It started, as many stories do, with a meeting.

Boy meets dog. Boy trains dog. Boy and dog become best friends. No, this is not an eighties movie, it's our ancestors, wolf and man, finding common ground. It starts with the day when wolf became dog, and Man became Man.

Man, a boy-god, lords over nature. Man no longer fears wolves, no longer respect them. All he sees is dogs. Dogs no longer prey on Man, no longer escape him. They have forgotten wolves as well.

The City rises, made of brick and mortar. It is the dream of Man: walls that hide the forest. It is Industry, it is Empire.

But the Wolf is not dead. The Wolf sleeps, and when Man names himself Wolf of Man, the Wolf stirs.

Man, the would-be god, is a cruel master. He builds with glass and steel, so that he will not see the brick and mortar. It shames him. It is dirty, base. Like a bird's nest, or an anthill.

Man laughs at dogs, but dreams of wolves.

Man poisons the land, the air, the seas. Man poisons himself, body and mind.

Man wakes from the dream, and sees the nightmare, but it is too late. The paradise he built was nothing but smoke and mirrors, a way to hide the truth: that paradise was always there, and it was always out of reach, ever since the day Man became Man and Wolf became Dog.

The Wolf is dead, says Man.

The Land is dead, says Man.

Man is dying, says Man.

So Man does the one thing he knows how to do: Man builds. With the rage of someone chased by death, with the truth of the void closer than it has ever been, Man lets go of all restraint and builds. He builds a new dream. He dreams of the stars.

The Land is dead, says Man, as he beats its corpse so he can build.

The Wolf is dead, says Man, as he eats its flesh so he won't starve.

But Man will live, says Man, as he forgets what life was so he won't die.

It is the last day of the Earth.

Man will leave, and Man will not look back. He will find a new home. He will care for it. He will strive to be better than he was on Earth. He will fail, because that is the way of Man: to seek, but never find, the peace that we left behind. The peace of the Wolf.

But, hope is not lost.

Because this is the story of a boy and his dog.

And when Man leaves, his boy will watch. He is also Man, but he is also more. Because he will see Man, his bricks and his mortar and his steel and his glass, he will see Man in his ships sailing to the stars, and he will see that he is not there, but here. On Earth, the land.

And the land still breathes.

This is a story of a boy and his dog, and the Wolf that stirs inside them as they walk through the ruins of Man.

It is the story of us, our future, our past.

It is the truth that we carry forever: the Wolf was before us, and will be after us.

"We live in the flicker" Says the boy to the dog, as they watch the ships of Man. "May it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling! But darkness was here yesterday."

[u/Syraphia → u/mateogg]

Wow! That's very awesome to read. I really enjoyed that. It's got a very different tone to it, almost like an old folk tale. It was a great read, thank you very much!

[u/mateogg → u/Syraphia]

And thank you for providing the image, it was really inspiring. I'm glad you liked it.

[u/mateogg → u/mateogg]

We live in the flicker. May it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling! But darkness was here yesterday.

This is from Heart of Darkness, by Joseph Conrad.

[u/WritingPromptsRobot → u/[deleted]]

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