A flash fiction piece by Erica Fransisca.
The harbinger was not old. In fact, he was hardly as the legends portrayed: grim, crooked and foul. The man who stood in this sunlit glade wore white and had the semblance of a jovial youth. He was watching the horizon as a little girl frowned at the ground beneath him. With those identical dark hair and freckles, they could easily have passed as siblings, even though they came from different worlds.
“That’s not your shadow,” the girl said.
The harbinger turned towards her and smiled. “It rarely is, these days.”
“What do you mean?”
“The end is near, Eliza,” the young man mused. He observed her reaction, but she barely looked surprised; he didn’t know she had dreamed about him a million times before. Each time, he would say the same things as she asked the same questions.
Eliza looked at the shining thing the man was watching, a golden radiance against the clear blue sky. “Are you talking about the end of the world?”
“Yes,” He seated himself on the field of green, patting on the empty spot beside him. Eliza sat. “The sun died long before you were born. The earth is in her deathbed, and soon she too will draw her last breath.”
“Should I be scared?” Eliza asked, brushing her fingers against the grass. The droplets of dew stuck to her skin like old friends who wouldn’t let go. She also relished the sweet waft of flowers—lilies, primroses and honeysuckle. These things had become mere memories in the real world.
“No, because the new world will be like this.” The harbinger gestured at the view before them—boundless grassland, bright sky and clean air. “More beautiful and fitting for humans.”
The little girl thought for a while, letting an eternity of comfortable silence stretch between them. “But haven’t humans destroyed the world? I don’t think we deserve a better one.”
The young man chuckled, earning him a confused frown. He sighed. “You’re perceptive for such a young one, but there are greater things beyond what you know. Destruction has always defined humans, but so has redemption.”
“Destruction has always defined humans, but so has redemption.”
“I see…”
“You don’t agree,” he observed.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “But maybe you’re right, it’s in our nature to destroy and only regret our selfishness when there’s nothing left to take.”
The harbinger smiled, he said, “I can’t believe you’re only eleven.”
“Well, it’s a tough place where I’m from,” Eliza winked. “I can’t wait to join you here.”
Much time passed, though neither could tell how long exactly they remained there. Slowly, the sky darkened. Eliza knew her companion could not notice it, but it was a sign she was gaining consciousness. She took a deep breath and said, “I wish I could sleep forever.”
This caught the man’s attention, who immediately shook his head. “Be careful what you wish for.”
Oh, if only he knew, she thought. But there was no time to respond as Eliza woke up.
Eliza opened her eyes and didn’t move. Staring at the rundown ceiling of her home, she wondered when the end would come. For months now she had been dreaming of the harbinger, who kept saying soon, but never told her when.
She glanced outside through the small crack on her wall. The days here were dark, of course, as were the nights. Eliza sighed. What was she thinking? Hundreds of nights spent in a long gone paradise, and now she expected this world to change?
Voices arose from the other rooms; neighbors bustling about their tedious routine. Her parents were dead and her brother hadn’t come home last night, so there was no one when Eliza awoke.
As she sat up on the mattress, something fell out of her hand. A wilted flower petal she’d held onto so hard in her dream. Flowers could not survive in her world, but Eliza smiled nonetheless. She scrambled for a tiny box hidden beneath a pile of clothes. Inside was a collection of petals, stems, grass and branches; all dead, but mementos of a forgotten world.
Of a world she would soon join.
Eliza had a secret that even the harbinger didn’t know. If she grasped something firmly and wished to have it hard enough, she could take things out of her dreams.
She dropped the wilted petal in her box. It wasn’t much, but these snatches of a dream world represented hope unlike anything she’d ever had.
Eliza left her compound and looked forward to the end of the world.
This flash fiction piece was first written in 2016 and published on Deviantart. I’ve been tweaking and editing it a bit since. Try The Dreamcatcher’s Nightmare next for a short, comedic flash fiction piece!