Nelson Johnson

The Last Colony

The day the government bailed out the auto industry, I was just a child napping in the backseat of my mother’s beat up sedan. With the fresh air passing through the open roof and the sun shining down on my eyelids, I was at peace. I remember hearing the passing hum of a bumble bee who nestled upon my hair and rested his wings for his midday flight. Sometimes I still dream about that moment, and I like to think back on it as a premonition. But when I do not dream, I exist in the darkness and wake up covered in the ashes and sand fluttering around after another passing sunset.