Cacophony

The momentary flash of light and the crumbling of the last pillar. A world folding in on itself as the line between sky and horizon become blurry. The sound of screams and the vibrato of their echo providing a soundtrack for the occasion. An inescapable heat sweltering all those around, as if the smell of sulphur is not enough. All those around grasp for an escape, wondering “who had come into town?”

The sound of trumpets at the last stand could not overcome the thumping of boots, which could not still tame the rumbling of the earth. The sliver of a red moon signals the arrival of dusk, but there were no other stars in the sky tonight.

Weeds grow ten feet high from the cracks in the concrete before the cracks spread and swallow what was above. The water is thicker than tar, and the air is heavier than the worst disappointment. The final curtain plummets down but the actors cannot escape the stagelight. The walls sweat profusely, and the tide keeps rising, and the crowds fill the streets, and the sirens blare distantly, and the bells toll quarter to 12, and the trains run behind schedule, and the cacophony of music and light and smoke crescendo, before a snap into darkness, and the arrival at the destination. x

ART by HALEEMA YOUSUF

WORDS by ALAN

MINKOVICH