Youth Of Today

Drip, drip, drip...

Zoe was staring at the pink clouds, the intensity of her gaze piercing their unwelcome softness with imaginary rays, the sheer force of her indignation knocking electrons out of their fluffy orbits. If the clouds felt offended, they did not show it. Perhaps they, too, had accepted the inevitable fate that awaited everyone and everything.

Drip, drip, drip...

She faintly remembered how, upon waking earlier that day, she had felt an immense sense of invincibility. With all worries and fears cast aside and forever locked away, she felt freer than she had ever dared imagine. The day was young, like a newborn creature risen with the first light of dawn, eager to explore, to grow, to live! So much promise was held in those early hours of the morning, a pure blank canvas that would come to portray an epic and glorious story, as a final memory to cherish before the sun did eventually set with finality.

Drip, drip, drip...

She had put on her favourite jeans, a top depicting a hundred dancing rainbows, and her dearly missed grandmother’s adorable straw hat. Barefoot, she had sprinted out of her front door, not bothering to close it and not intending to ever come back. Through the streets she ran, skipping, singing, ignoring the sounds of despair and hysterical laughter that were emanating from open windows, through barred gates and out of the mouths of children and grown men. People were crying, laughing, hugging and shouting at each other, or just sitting on their doorsteps with ashen faces buried in granite hands. Zoe ran on, not caring, not thinking, on and on, her feet blissfully raw by the time she reached the green meadows at the edge of town.

Drip, drip... drip...

Oh, how she had run and leapt, feeling every blade of grass with her heart and toes, her limbs rolling amongst the yellow flowers and stinging nettles, her eyes urging the butterflies to drift away on wings of joy and forsake their pollination duties - for how could those possibly matter any more? She had never felt so alive, had never been so aware of the power of her blood flowing through her veins, her exquisitely crafted organs infusing her with a force more wonderful than magic. It was the most beautiful morning she had ever experienced, the youth of the day filling her with an electrical energy that defied all explanation. Satisfied, she allowed her eyes to close for just one minute..

Drip, drip, drip, drip...

She had woken up with a start, as she felt the intense heat of the midday sun burning the skin on her nose and the sores on her toes. Her arms and legs felt heavy and stiff, as if they were being pulled down by a million millipedes, a billion legs trying to drag her into the earth, seeking to expedite the inevitable. No! It was only noon, and the day still owed her many more hours! Already, however, she could feel the youth of today slipping away, as the merciless sun aged her skin and burnt away the layers of expectation. It was this knowledge that drained her of her energy. Defeated, she just lay there, as the day grew old with her.

Drip, drip, drip..

It had begun to rain. The clouds had appeared out of nowhere, harbingers of sorrow, their sad shapes casting poorly defined shade where they floated. The day felt brittle now, and it wasn’t crying so much as leaking the life force that sustained it, the seconds and the minutes and the hours dripping away relentlessly into dark oblivion. The pink was starting to give way to a deep orange, and then a maudlin purple, the sunset mere moments away. The day, once so full of youthful energy, was now a sad wrinkled mess, ready to collapse under the weight of all the expectations that twelve billion humans had piled upon it.

Drip...

The last few seconds in the existence of humanity slipped soundlessly away, as everyone’s gaze was fixed on the last remaining light, adults reflecting upon lives wasted or well spent, and children realising with quiet dignity that all they had ever known was the promise of youth.

Drip.