Allegory of Rememberance, by Nathalie Parenteau.
Part of the "The Unconscious Landscape" exhibition.
This story is just a rough draft. I basically wrote it all in one sitting. I think I like it, though.
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The rock stretched endlessly onward. The sun, a thief of moisture, snatched every breath away from them. It pummeled their backs, draining them of strength, like a leech. The rock lit up as embers beneath their feet. Every step was one closer to death.
His face met the ground in violent embrace. Amadi whipped her head around as his body slid against the rock.
“Father!”
She bent down and turned him over. His face was gaunt, weathered, lifeless. She held her father’s head with her bony fingers, like a mother cradles her baby.
“We must continue.” Amadi’s uncle grabbed her from under her arms and lifted her onto her shaky feet. She wanted so badly to protest – to scream with all the strength her lungs could muster, to never leave her father’s side. But nothing came. She just held her head down low, as if in shame, and the caravan continued across the desert.
As they traveled, Amadi kept glancing behind her, watching her father’s body grow smaller and smaller. The barren wasteland did nothing to hide his crumpled body. As he grew farther, he looked less like her dad and more like a rock, until he was just a tiny speck on the horizon. Eventually, water seemed to overtake him, as he was swept into the mirage. Amadi wished the water was real. She would have liked her father to know the feel of water again.
The sun lowered, casting harsh shadows on the desolate landscape. The shadows crawled as the sun grew lower, like vines of darkness flowing across the rock. The caravan stopped and began to set up camp. Their flasks were mostly empty, and food was scarce. But they would still continue.
Amadi noticed a gentle breeze as they rationed out food and water. She could barely feel it on her cheek, as her skin was so burnt and worn. It brought a tiny smile to her lips, anyway. The dried flakes of meat were tasteless and stale, but anything to eat was greatly appreciated. A flask of water was passed around, each person taking one sip and passing it to the next. Amadi drank some and passed it to the next person, but she felt almost thirstier than she did before.
The sun had almost set when they laid out sheets of thick fabric to sleep on. Amadi wrapped herself in her cloak and laid down. The stars were starting to appear. She held herself tight, trying her hardest to remember what her father’s touch felt like, what his voice sounded like. Her mind soon drifted into darkness.
***
She awoke to the sound of screaming. She stood up as fast as her sore body allowed, her head spinning.
“Sandstorm!”
She turned her head, and looked to the horizon. There was a wall of smoke, spreading from end to end, rushing toward them. It was still distant, but it was growing quickly.
She grabbed nothing and began to run. The caravan was scattered. Two members had been left at the camp, too weak to stand. It only made them run faster.
Amadi caught up to the front of the pack. The wind blew harder. The sun darkened. She wanted so badly to turn around, to watch the swarm overtake the sun, overtake the sky, overtake her body. But she kept looking forward. Her father wouldn’t be coming back, but she ran anyway.
Soon the wind became overpowering. It clutched her clothing, attempting to pull it away. Her dark hair writhed, as if tortured. The land grew dark. She could barely hear the screams of the people behind as they were swept into the roaring nothingness.
She leapt over a ridge, crashing into the rock below. The cloud rushed overhead, shrouding her in darkness. It was deafening. She rolled over and pushed her body against the wall of rock, watching the sand-swarm fly over her. It seemed endless. There were few others of the caravan who had made it to safety. They all sat there, stoic expressions on their face, completely silent.
The sand blew for what seemed like days.
As the darkness lifted, Amadi could still hear ringing in her ears. She looked around and found that the three who made it with her were motionless on the ground. She climbed up over the ridge, grazing the landscape for her family. Carcasses speckled the barren rock, their bodies mangled beyond recognition. Eventually, they would all return to dust. They would all be ground into the rock. Ground into nothing.
She began walking towards the horizon. The rock stretched endlessly onward. The sun, a thief of moisture, snatched every breath away from her. It pummeled her face, draining her of strength, like a leech. The rock lit up as embers beneath her feet. Every step was one closer to death.
So Amadi wrapped herself in her cloak and laid down. She held herself tight, trying her hardest to remember what her father’s touch felt like, what his voice sounded like. Her mind soon drifted into darkness.
