The Last Remaining Ball

The Last Remaining Ball.

At first it fell at dawn. From the heavens, it simply fell. No other explanation possible. The luminous tepid oranges and dark blacks reflected from the powerful rays of the sun to blind all around. Once it landed, it rolled, and rolled and rolled. The voluptuous unspoilt untouched rich green grasses made haste to move out of the way of its path. As it built up speed, it smoothly appeared to glide down the hill, passing the birth of many small trees and innocent organisms, onwards until it reached its destination.

A new born rock, placed just a few hours ago however did not move. It couldn't, and inevitably knocked it from its course. Bouncing from the impact, the object bounced to the bottom of the hill, landing in a pile of radiant white snow, washing away the green grass which had rushed to join the objects exciting journey. Only, now the grass, and indeed the snow could see exactly what the object was. It was a ball, a naive ball, which was now off course.

A few days past, the stars chased after the moon, and the clouds swam past the sun. After three days, the ball began to move again, towards the large grey shapes in the distance, to continue its interrupted journey. The gentle winds picked it up away from the debris of ice and water and it rolled away once more. Tumbling gently across the wide landscape ahead the ball did not stop or think, nor did it curse nor whine, it merely carried on. Rolling past countless trees, evergreen and pine, fruit bearing and young, the ball skimmed across the plains, the wheat and the hay, stopping not once until it reached the shapes afar.

After five days relentless, uninterrupted journey, approaching the large shapes in the distance the ball fell downwards into a small hole. Descending down the hole, the ball passed torn wires hanging from the soil, metal plates lunging outwards and roots old and new tightening their hold across these intruding objects. The ball finally came to a halt, atop, a slender mound of mud and clay, collecting grains of mud across its protected surface. Swaying softly, to and fro, left and right, the ball continued, down the mound, and onto the rugged surface below. Either side of the ball, lay two gigantic sleepers which held large planks of metal in-between them. For mere amusement, the ball rolled along the sleepers, finding exhilaration trying to keep its balance. Once or twice the ball fell, and immediately recovered its balance as if playing some sort of childish game of innocence, and the ball drifted along entering a circular archway. Underneath the archway, lay more sleepers and metal strips, slightly above the surface, lay a dilapidated platform, which owned up a sparking electrical machine, sporting a torn graphic of still gleaming red fizzy drink. Around the machine, the platform walls held up a few dull yellow and subdued muted white diminutive tiles, above held from a bending pole, was a black camera, supported only by the goodwill of the wall support.

Arriving slowly, the ball past not but a glance flowing up the remaining ramp past the machine, upwards to the sunlight. Streaming past broken glass, travel bags and clothing, the ball continued to end its journey, reaching the peak of the ramp way the ball fell back, shuffling to strengthen its position. Apprehension flowed through the ball, fear arrived as the ball feared falling back, back down into the darkness. After a contest against the remaining force of gravity the ball eventually won, and powered away from the area heading to the grey statues. This is when the ball stopped and circled to adjust its position and explore the world around. Upon sudden investigation the ball saw large grand grey eroding towers, smashed glass glittering the floor littering the world around the ball with potential death and danger. Sliding backwards gaining a better view, the ball saw monotonous red, blue and black , yellow and silver cars piled up upon either sides the roads, and even into buildings.

Carefully, the ball slithered northwards cautiously dodging shards of glass and plastic, when the ball moved no more. Abruptly stopping the ball reached its goal. In front of the ball lay a raw discoloured frigid hand, no body just a hand which possessed dreary exposed pink stringy veins hanging from the beginning of the wrist. Shivering the ball glanced up, up at its destination, the large grey shapes, seen from miles around, almost a week ago, they seemed fantastically ominous and exciting, now the ball saw them for what they truly were. Two mountains of human flesh, human bodies. High atop the peak of the mountains perched thousands of back vultures bickering over the last pieces of meat upon human hairs and human fingers. Bones were gnawed dry and brittle, the sun dared not to shine upon this monstrosity. The ball hailed and cried two huge tears. Rolling backwards over itself the ball cried in pain as it was tore into by shattered glass, trying to recover, glass hit the ball from either side and the ball screamed in intense suffering. A final cry was heard within seconds and the last remaining air within the ball was lost to the unnatural ambience around. This world without computers described as perfect by some, a safe heaven by others, a utopia even, ended all life, ended the trains, the subways, the little children playing in the streets, removed the colour around, and finally ended the last remaining ball.