(Author’s Note: Early on in my blogging, to honor the old pulp magazine serials, I began a weekly serial series of various of my stories. I have decided to repost those stories. Each Friday will feature a new chapter until a story ends. Then I will begin a new story. Enjoy!)
Chapter 1 – All Is Still
Chapter 2 – I Crawl
Chapter 3: I Weep
Chapter 4 – I Hear
I awoke to a scratching sound. A sound? A sound! A sound means life, doesn’t it? It took me awhile to figure out that the scratching came from behind me. I spoke and remembered how weird my own voice sounded in that gray dawn, “H-H-Hello.” Like an echo, it came back. The same huskiness from disuse, the same uncertainty, the same disbelief. Another person? Someone to share my hurt, to lean on? Another to talk to?
The scratching became louder as the other began to dig more frantically. I too wished to help and began to eagerly cast boulders here and there. No boulder, however big, was a match for the awesome strength that coursed through my veins. Soon a tousled and dirtied head of hair appeared and then a face and then shoulders, arms, legs, a body! Suddenly, two strangers were embraced in each other’s arms. So began the happiest days of my life.
Eveline and I shared so much this afternoon. How she had struggled beneath tons of concrete to find a way outside, always clutching the book so special to her. She read from it today, sharing her favorite parts with me, and I too am finding that it is becoming special to me.
“Lo, I am with you always.”
“Come to me all who are heavy laden and I will give you rest.”
“Aren’t you worth much more than sparrows?”
In deep contentment, we fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Eveline and I have spent these last couple of days just simply sharing with each other and to my shame, I realize that I have been neglecting this diary. Eveline feels it is important too. Maybe another future generation will read it and not make the same mistake our generation did.
Eveline and I have decided, realizing that our strength is almost gone, to crawl toward a distant pine tree outside of Town. It symbolizes the new life we shall share together soon. From what we can tell from here, it is still living. We started today and slept on the outskirts of Town.
(Originally posted here March 2012. Written in 1985 at age 18).