Tomorrow's world

Tomorrow’s world.

You open your eyes. It is your bed in which you lay on. And the bed sheets which covered the bed on which you had slept on were all wrinkled. It is another usual day, where the sun rises on the east horizon. And the minute hand on the clock points to 3 at exact and the hour hand stays halfway in between 7 and 8. It is still early. And you moved out of the bed, with drowsiness still swirling in your head, and towards the bathroom where all the things you need to refresh yourself are kept.

You look out of the window before leaving your room. Yes. The sun is there. But you sense something amiss. There were no birds in the sky. Birds were rarely seen in the morning skies from your window. But there are birds though. Yet, today, there are not, not even specks of black or grey or brown were seen across the sky. You shrugged your shoulders and wondered if the birds woke up on the same hour everyday.

You got yourself to the kitchen. You make a toast and you sit down and munch on it, little by little, enjoying what you have and sipping orange juice from a long cylindrical glass between bites. Meanwhile, your brain does some random thinking. Like what undone work you have in your office. What you were having for lunch later. And who is going to have it with you. Your hands work on themselves while your brain does the thinking, and they bring the now empty glass to the basin. You leave it there and tell yourself that you will wash it when you come home later. You get yourself ready. And you walk out of your house.

What that came into your eyes struck you. It stunned you. And left you rooted to the ground for a few seconds that seemed eternal. You rub your eyes, and wonder if you are in a dream. You close your eyes, inhale some air and open your eyes. Nothing has changed.

It is usually a bus station and houses opposite to yours that you see when you walk out of the house. A decent row, you’d say. Tidy and neat. And the whole city is just there, behind the houses opposite the road, in your view. Skyscrapers and the never ending view of concrete blocks. Like a tall, gray but lively forest that make long shades over your house when the sun sets in the west. And in the mornings, the bus would come up the street exhausting gases that are dark and that moves in to the sky obviously. And the sound of the engine would be so loud that you will never miss it. And people would have already crowded under the small shade the bus station provided.

But today, you think, what has come over this land. For what that comes into your view is just wasted land. The city is there. And there is a shade of eeriness that fills the air over the city. It seems dead. And the sign at the bus station has broken down with rust. And for the next five minutes, no bus came up the street. And no one was moving in the street either. The houses opposite had come down to rubbles. No living thing was seen. No stray cats or dogs were seen running across the street. The whole land is dead. The trees beyond the gates of your house withered, and the pavement with nice flower carvings slightly protruding from it had cracked deeply.
You walk down the street and soon you find it quite hard to breathe. There was dust in the air. And debris made up a light fog that filled the streets. Even under broad day light, the streets seem dark itself. The tar streets had somehow gone dry. Tar streets are dry, but the one you see are drier than dry. And visible cracks were all over it. And no grass or fern grew from it. This place was deserted, obviously, by humans and all the wild life that prospers and blooms from cracks in walls and roads and pavements. You walk on and you have come till the main street that leads on directly to the city.

You walk on. And there was a part where you came to a junction, where the hustle and bustle of the traffic all met the day before. What had came over this city? Deep thoughts ponder in your mind. And your feet moved on. The shops beside the road were now colorless, literally. Curtains were drawn. As you walk on, you do not notice the eyes that are prying and peeking at every step you take from behind the curtains. The bearers of these eyes are the ones that have done this great damage to the city. And now, they fear to face what they had done to this city. And it is only up to time to judge their living days behind the curtains.

Everything seems gloomy and dark. The air got warmer soon. You look up in to the sky. Of course, there were no clouds, and the sun is blazing like a ball of exploding fire in the sky. But that has got nothing to do with the warm air that was already suffocating you in your collar shirt. You unbuttoned a few and pulled away your tie. You walk on.

The city was once prosperous and blooming with wealth and technology. And people. It was common to see people bustling up and down the streets in the city, entering large buildings and coming out. Entering the shops and coming out. They never seem to have stopped for a brief moment of rest. And the cars zoomed up and down the streets. Exhausting gases are emitted eventually, pervading the air with all the unwanted toxic gases that no Man needed for breathing. And these working people would go for fast food which they find more time-saving rather than sitting down and having a proper meal. The bottles of which they drank of which were made up from plastic and toxic substances were throw all over the places. And some who had to walk across the river threw it into the river on the bridge which they find quite convenient.

You come to the city centre. The tall scrapers were hiding you from the sun which was now rising as time passes by. A dry wind brushed across the street. Debris and sand rose from the street and moved across a few feet from where they were. Plastic bottles went along as well. So did the trash. It was a pity sight to see at. For the city which had bloomed like any other day had not today. The walls looked dully at each other. And the glass windows seem to have lost their glitter under the sun. They looked gray too. You stared blankly at the empty city in front of you. And it stared back at your emptiness.
You walk away.

You headed for the small park in the city, where the greens and red blossoms, where the thick green foliage gave good shade. You had hope in you finding the park as it is. You hoped the park would be as good as ever. But hope had failed you, again. There were only wooden sticks left on the dry ground. Yes. Sticks. Skinny were the barks of the trees which bore no leaves or fruits. And the hedges that once grew to the height of your waist are now withered. No green was seen in the small park. No butterflies flew among the flowers. And there were no flowers for butterflies to fly. Something in your head told you to move on and leave this depressed land.

You moved on aimlessly, only to find yourself walking on the bridge that leads to the other part of the land where the industrial site sets. You looked down at the large gap under the bridge. Water once filled this gap. It is a river, with fishes and boats and many lively things on and in it. All now left is this huge gap with nothing but dried up land in it.
And in it lies plastic bottles that were never decayed. And some black fluid that seem like oil. There were also huge barrels a few feet away from the black fluid and another one a few feet away from the first one. And on these barrels were skull like signs, which meant deadly.

The industrial site was in rubbles too. No smoke emitted from the large exhaust pipes on the roof. None. And it was only yesterday that these large pipes pumped out the never ending toxic gases that everyone was complaining about. But this industrial site was the heart of the city, it produced new materials that the city needed and raw ingredients was brought in to the site for processing. The huge trailers with long and huge logs on them came to this site everyday. And they came everyday without failing a day. And in a few hours time, all the objects concerning papers were sent out in huge lorry and sent all over the city.

Somewhat in your head, you knew all these that you had seen meant something. Was it the deeds of what Man have done that has resulted in this day of tomorrow if we speak from the previous day? You took a long back home, with thoughts emerging from the surface of your mind at every step. You reached your house. And it stood erected, and beautifully among the rubbles. The trees in your garden were green too. So was the grass. You smile a little and you turn around. And you face a dead land again. You shake your head a little, and walked into your house. You closed the door behind you and suddenly you broke into tears. You are alone in this dead land. And only yesterday the city had bloomed like radiant flowers. And today the city is dead.

You go to bed. And when you look out of the window, the sun was already setting down on the West horizon. And far off the horizon, you catch a glimpse of a speck of green perched daintily on a slender branch. It cheered you a little. But you had your day, and you hope you will wake up to find it is all but a dream.


(1764 words)

p/s: it is indeed quite long for a post. And take note that the orange words are those works of my friend who brightened up the whole essay. and i thank pinfang gratefully for that.