Sunset Mine-State

The sun sets earlier this time of year. James yearns for days beyond recall when the sun would shine past nine - Before daylight savings was abolished, before farming became an outdated profession - James is seated upon his apartment building’s rooftop with his canned fruit and cup of instant filling the air with an artificial bitterness. A tutorial video teaches the crosshatch brush stroke. A practice completed by the lust of his life, Mia. He’s painting a tree in the sunset, where the sun rests on the branches of a fruit tree – A scene Mia had described to him in poignant detail - The brush leaves crosses on the canvas before him. As above so below in the dusk sky, a similar pattern is drawn by planes leaving condensation trails to seed the clouds. A practice completed by The Weather Bureau department of the ‘New Life Corporation’ - The weather is designed and foretold rather than read and reported - James lets his gaze follow the whispering wind further outside the city than he’s ever physically been. Out past the minefield he spots a single tree peaking above a distant hill - Surprising for the soil is sour where weeds dare not grow - He wishes to capture the specifics of the lonely tree but the emerging fog clouds its clarity. Through an opening in the fog that looms, James notices a feminine figure wandering minefield to lonesome tree. The sun sacrifices itself so the moon can shine, its last rays catching the light snow falling from the crosshatch pattern in the sky. An orange glow with embers climb to his attention. The last book store had its final day and the police are burning the books. The council made an event out of it to bring the community together.

The smoke follows the eyes and stains the clothes, the orange glow warms the skin and burns the snow to black. Books upon books standing doorways tall, grows bigger as books are lobbed by the cheering crowd. James stands alone with his attention to the highest reaching flames when a hardcover knocks him between the eyes leaving a book mark. ‘Agriculture and Horticulture: Grow your own food’. James thinks to himself ‘I don’t need to grow my own food for it is provided by the New Life Corporation bi-weekly cost free'. Mia rejects this notion stating "people shouldn’t eat food with ingredients that are as unpronounceable as they are mysterious". James recalls the bygone rebels propaganda. ‘If it’s free you are the product’ - this was usually in relation to pornography with the brain damage it inflicts on the ideals of a sexual relationship to destroy the outdated family unit - Prior to throwing the book into the blaze, James notices a Pear Tree on the back of the book, not unlike the tree he saw outside the city.

“There’s no point in keeping that, boy. You can get any information on any approved sites, throw it in the fire, for it is fun”. The old officer shows off an encouraging smile as he tosses a paperback into the hellfire.

The officers are trained to dialogue their assessment of people to notify a citizen’s status. This technique is used to belittle or praise through speak such as “Boy” (a lesser) or “Son” (a worthy). Catered to gender and age appropriations.

“No. I think I’ll keep this if it’s all the same to you, for I don’t know what information to look for if I intend to...” James replies.

The officers respect honesty and interrogate at any hint of a lie.

“…Say is there any way I can get safe passage past the minefield to a tree North East of the city, it looks akin to this tree here...” James inquires.

He presents the book to the officer, who reaches into his breast pocket and retrieves a pair of cracked spectacles and faces the book to the firelight.

…”I’d very much like to paint it to gift to someone special.”

The officer is taken aback.

“It is not that it is prohibited to leave the city son, it’s not recommended as we can’t protect you out there… but as a romantic to a romantic… The Mines are mere rumour.”

Since his primary academic years it was common belief the minefield is an unquestionable truth. He can't remember hearing one go off, even with the amount of strays that roam it’s area. ‘What about the figure walking to the tree?’ he ponders.

James fills an old plastic bottle under his rusty tap. James grabs his incomplete painting of moderate size and packs down the wooden easel along with his brush and paint. James grabs an old cart that squeaks as it travels and places the book in its rustic tray before he heads off to the North East gate.

The squeaky cart demands attention and notifies his presence on approach to the boom gate. A young officer exhales an aerosol cloud from his electric cigarette while administering an ocular assessment of the approaching figure.

“Identification and state your business, boy” demands the young officer.

James hands the officer his ID, close approaching its expiration date.

“I spotted a tree beyond a hill not far outside this gate and I’m going to paint it, as a gift for someone very special to me.” James responds with a childlike innocence.

The young officer hands back the ID and searches the cart finding the evidence to warrant the story to be believed.

“It’s a twenty five dollar fee to leave the city and boy… I warn you, out there we can’t protect you for there is danger and a field of mines... Take this.” The officer hands James an old metal detector and asks.

“Do you really want to leave boy, would it be worth your life?”

James pays the fee with a majority of his savings – The police are not militant, they govern through suggestion and false sense of security. The people are compliant as they are sedated from chemical effects in their diet and artificial environment. Extended tuitions and frequent meaningless events occupies the population’s attention outside of their low wage office hours – The officer allows James to leave for its within his rights.

The whispering wind guides his first nervous step to crunch into the hardened soil. The metal detector leads the way waving left and right beeping as rhythmic as a metronome. The cart squeaks behind over the uneven surface shaking on par with his knees. A minute goes by in an hour, for moments outside the comfort zone are in the present. To live in the present is the gift to truly live. Without anxieties of a potential future or misremembered past, James does not to think of a mine devouring him or turning back for protection. He is close to that of pure thought, to focus on a single outcome in the by-and-by. The lonely Pear Tree and the mysterious figure that had shown the way.

The path ahead reveals disturbed earth in the form of a bare foot print. He follows the tracks before him focusing one step at a time for dozens of minutes. To James it seemed to last exactly how long it should, no longer nor shorter, a reasonably perfect amount of time. Ultimately reaching an incline at the foot of a great hill he pauses to catch his breath and looks back on the minefield. The grey city with its tungsten glow fades into the fog.

A howling plays on his ear drums from the distance. A pair of eyes pierce through the fog in the darkness. A stray more hungry than it is angry, more starved than it is loved begins bounding over the field dying to eat it’s fill. As if the snow had frozen him, James stands still praying to a higher deity that a land mine would blow the beast into its own grave. A seed of thought dug into his brain ‘There are no land mines. It is a lie’ which watered the seed of thought the more he thought that thought and it grew into a great tree with branches bearing the fruit of great implications inside his head. The drum like rhythm of the stray’s paws smacking the ground and a sharp “BARK!” snapped his attention to the danger at hand. The stray closes the space between them and leaps at James. Thrusting the metal detector strong in front of him he brakes the stray’s left canine, removing its purpose to tear meat. The dog whimpers back then halts to an attack stance releasing a deep growl. Before it charges a heaven-sent cut of a subpar meat falls before the stray. It devours it whole as if it’s evolved without tastebuds. Another treat leads the stray into the darkness from whence it came. Upon the great hill a figure stands illuminated by the moon finding its way through the clouds. James is stunned to see a familiar face, the pair are as stunned as each other.

“Mia… my appreciation is as great as your beauty.” James speaks as if composing a sonnet.

“Welcome.” she retorts as she packs the meat cuts into a rucksack.

Mia has intrigued James since he was a secondary academic, she was a drop out and publicly shamed for it. He had a burning lust for her and they stayed in contact on a regular basis for companionship. James would speak his vast vocabulary, learned of academic literature and quote great historical figures yet it would pale in comparison to her wise simplistic way of word – for the modern academic is taught approved information and upon completion of learning, have their memory tested. The wise never cease learning from all teachings and question what is taught -

James ascends the hill as the hard soil grows increasingly soft and vibrant with each stride. His heart still races from the confrontation with the stray, he turns fear into passion and grabs Mia by the waist to kiss her with the love of life. He takes her hand as they wander toward the tree, the cart squeaks behind. It was not the literal sun resting on the branch as she described. It is a beautiful ripe Pear. Upon its skin, the sun sets over a green field. A ripe fruit, fresh from the tree, something James imagined existed only in the movies. Forth reaching to the Fruit, she pluck'd, she eat and James does the same with an eager appetite.

The pair make eye contact of pure attention, a second goes by in a minute. James brakes the soul gazing to look at the rustic cart, Mia’s attention follows. She is drawn toward the cart in curiosity and kneels before it.

“What’s this?” Mia questions.

“A gift for you… the tree.” James reluctantly answers looking at his unfinished painting.

Mia reaches into the cart and with admiration and hope, examines the book with the Pear Tree ‘Agriculture and Horticulture: Grow your own food’.