Nothing is infinite
Valencia
I tear my eyes open.
My head doesn't have to regain orientation.
When the empty feeling makes itself present and noticeable in my head, my stomach, my heart and my legs, I force down the bile that starts to rise in my throat.
After I wipe my eyes, my hands are still wet.
With more and more sobs spilling from my lips, I struggle up. My heart tears apart at the seams that I so carefully stitched up with the thread my coping has given me when I am yet confronted with the sight.
Still in denial, my hands shake - my whole body shakes - when I carefully take the blanket and wrap it around the shape of my brother.
I can feel how cold he is when his head slumps against my chest as I pick him up and a sob escapes my lips.
Oh, my baby.
I cradle his small shape in my arms like I used to when he was younger when I leave the back room, and exit the shelter.
And I cry, all the way home. I can only wince until all the tears I could have ever cried have left me.
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𝗧𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄'𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 | an apocalyptic novel ©
Science FictionNew York - The Bronx, 1995 - 2035 In the aftermath of a catastrophic global climate shift, humanity finds itself at the mercy of an unforgiving planet. With weather patterns gone haywire, society has crumbled, and survivors must band together to wit...
