paul wilderman

The Ash Precipice

Joseph Rastan woke up startled and jolted, sitting up frightened and alert despite his lack of sleep. He instinctively checked his bedside for a firearm but there was none, a habit from years spent as a expendable soldier traded around fighting the battles that power structures did not want to be seen fighting. The room was dark and in his startled state he finally noticed he had fallen asleep beside his 6 year old daughter. His daughter could not sleep by herself since the events of 9 days ago. Just as Joseph gathered himself the room shook once again reminding him of the situation that had now blacked out the world. Looking through his daughter's window only a faint orange light could be seen through a haze of never ending smoke that would've been a sunny day only weeks ago. Joseph checked his watch, it was stuck at 11 am and time seemed to matter less with no sun, and no electricity. As he peered through the window a ruckus could be heard outside an uncommon noise since the city he lived in was now a ghost town. Joseph’s neighbor was arguing with his wife as they packed up a cart, the wife was angry about something and the husband was loading up the shopping cart with items holding a flashlight in his mouth acting like his wife wasn't even there. Minutes later the fight subsided as they left down the street kicking trash and maneuvering around dead vehicles that would never start again. Joseph peered out taking in the scenery from his 2nd story window, smirking, taking in the moment remembering back 2 years prior buying this big house being sold on its mountain and city views. These scenic views that today are now limited to a couple hundred feet obscured by thick smoke and raining ash.