First Place Short Fiction: Don’t Go by Danielle Spencer, Smithton

First Place: Fiction Don’t Go Danielle Spencer, Smithton

At 7:06 A.M. the sun rose. No one in Denver could see it, but it came over the horizon. No one has seen a sunrise in years thanks to all the pollution and smog in the air. Instead, there is a gradual lightening in the sky until the predawn joggers realize that, yes, they can see their hand clearly without an artificial light. The smog covers the sky, which barely allows the sunlight to come through. It colors the sky a dirty orange, brown shading it darker. A woman about twenty-eight years old suddenly stirs, sitting up from her cracked chair. She looks around in confusion before seeing a book open in her lap. She remembers now, falling asleep in her reading chair before making it to bed. The woman, Grace Milton, stretches and places a bookmark between the pages. She lays the book, titled “How to Care for Mythical Creatures,” on the coffee table in front of her. She looks around and sighs. Time to get to work. After getting ready for the day and grabbing a genetically modified protein bar for breakfast, Grace rushes down the stairs of her apartment building. She hits the streets, scarfing down her breakfast as she ignores the boy shouting after her, “Newspaper! Read all about the super hurricane that wiped out California!” Grace quickly passes a television outside a popular restaurant, which blares the news, “...global temperatures are rising, and most of the world’s population has evacuated to cooler climates. If the animal kingdom doesn’t adapt to these...” A single, solitary car roars across the bridge; it is the only one that works in this part of town. Gas is too expensive, especially when doctors are needed more than ever to combat the sicknesses that are spreading like a plague. Instead, most people walk everywhere. Surgical masks are worn by children to protect their fragile immune systems. Few are surviving to adulthood. Grace unlocks the back door to her workplace and enters, locking the door behind her. After prep work, she grabs what she needs and heads further into the compound. Grace carries a smelly bucket to one of the enclosures, not eager to start her work. She always begins with the serpents, which is her least favorite part of being a zookeeper. Pushing open the exterior door, she makes sure it closes before opening the next one. The creatures inside seem to stare into her soul. Grace shivers, avoiding eye contact, and starts giving out the food. The serpents give Grace a basilisk stare while she puts the meals in their enclosures. She avoids their eyes, frightened by their creepy countenance. Then she comes to the last one, holding the biggest serpent in the zoo. Medusa, who eats the most, could probably swallow a human child. She gulps, then places the food in the slot. Medusa remains still, and Grace becomes worried. Just as she is about to open the door and poke the food again, she

is startled by something being flung at the viewing window. She gasps as Medusa’s mouth pulls back, avoiding eye contact as the large basilisk hisses. Grace, finished for now, quickly returns to her area and retrieves the next animal’s food. She hears the hoarse croaks their voices have become when she enters the aviary. The wyverns and dragons, their colors once bright and splendid, are now as colorful as the dingy sky. Their feathers, once healthy and glossy, are now brittle and break when they flap. One of the tamer ones, out of those that are left, lands on her shoulder. Grace smiles, “Hello Fuego.” Fuego, who used to have splendid feathers like fire, croaks pitifully at her. The young phoenix sniffs her hair before combing it with his beak. Grace smiles warmly before shifting him onto a perch close to the ground. She dumps the seed in one bin and steps back as the wyverns flock to it, their blue and violet colors dull. Grace moves to the other side of the aviary and dumps the meat inside. The small dragons and phoenixes leap up to the bin, some squawking hoarsely as they hop along the ground while others push their neighbors aside. Grace holds between her gloved hands the last of the meat and offers it to one of the dragons, a red feathered creature that looks terrible. She knows it is dying. Across the world the pollution and sickness spread, killing thousands. The animal kingdom can’t adapt fast enough to the swift changes humanity has brought, and are slowly dying. The dragon does not move, other than a slow rise and fall as it breathes laboriously. Until one moment, it stops. Grace sighs, sadness taking her over. The poor thing didn’t deserve to die like this, but there is nothing she can do. She tosses the meat to Fuego, who catches it enthusiastically in his beak, and gently picks up the dead animal. She will take it to the taxidermist after work, who will be able to sell the stuffed creature to the rich that collect the dying species. Taxidermy has risen as a career recently. With so many animals dying, stuffing them is one of the only ways to preserve their beauty. By now the zoo is open, available for the public to come and see some of the last exotic animals of the world. Grace passes a few couples and families looking at the exotic creatures. She gathers herself one more time, preparing to enter her favorite enclosure. The unicorns. There used to be more than unicorns though. Some of the males, when they get older, grow a second, smaller horn above their first. They are no less majestic though, for all their bulk and sharp horns. They are beautiful to Grace. Now though, there is only one left. A juvenile and the last one at the Denver Zoo. While the unicorns seem awe-inspiring to Grace, most others just ignore their existence. “Hey Mimsy,” Grace calls. The unicorn perks her head up and looks in her keeper’s direction. Unicorns naturally have bad eyesight, but the pollution, smog, illness, and such in the air caused the little creature to go blind. Mimsy slowly gets

up and walks toward Grace, who hums to tell the unicorn where her keeper is. Grace looks over Mimsy, feeling for any injuries, and hears her ragged breathing. Not much longer for her either. She can’t stop her eyes from watering at the thought and puts her arm around the creature’s neck. Mimsy nuzzles her head into Grace’s stomach. “Look Mama,” a little girl says. She and her mother had paused on their way to see the monkeys. “It’s a rhinosaurous!” “Rhinoceros dear,” the mother corrects. “One of the last there is. Take a good, long look.” The girl looks confused, though her expression is mostly hidden by the surgical mask she wears. “Why? Where is it going?’ “There’s hardly any more left in the world. You might not see another rhinoceros in your life,” the mother explains before they move on. Tears spring to Grace’s eyes, and she holds Mimsy a little tighter. Almost the entire species is extinct, and the ones that survive won’t for much longer. Grace finally lets it out. The tears, the sobs, crying until her heart can’t take the sorrow and keeps going. She doesn’t stop until she feels drained of the energy, slowing down until all that is left are sniffles. In the mid-morning air, sounds can be heard within the zoo. The parrots and birds with their dull colors give their last song as the brittle feathers fall to the ground. The snakes and lizards hiss at the visitors before they return to the dust from whence they came. And the last unicorn takes a final breath before laying down to rest. “Please, don’t go,” Grace whispers, upset that she cannot save the animals she loves so much. She stays in the enclosure until after dark, and the half-moon shines its light through a small gap in the smog.