“I remember drunken eves on the back porch of Pompeii,” He breathed with menthol smoke slivering out of his lips. “I remember the view.”
“I remember the smells. Most of them good, but in the end it was ashen trinkets of lost lives and forgotten dilapidated furniture. Rotting timber and the hot sun, cast a dusty haze over the history of it all. If you go there, you would wade through stories of loves lost, friendships found, and a community built and destroyed in an instant. When a disaster strikes, it seems time moves quickly through slow motion.
There was a grizzly goat the size of Mercedes, a pack of wild dogs let loose upon the yard. From the hot spring just there, we watched snowfall and rose to let our steamy ghosts take flight in the crisp air. Electrical storms- we would watch from our metal recliners, soaking in the risk of death as we counted out the time for thunder to wash over us. Smiles. Tears. Blood. Joy. Everything was experienced there.
Some of the mice out back carried disease, but these same vermin were collected by feral cats with glee. Horses trotted past with no regard for anything.
The mountains turned red with fire, our stomachs filled to the brim with nightly feast. All gathered to break bread in the sun filled days and to set the night ablaze with noise and embers that foreshadowed the end. Explosions of glass and cacophonous laughter filled our ears, our noses with the dust of a farm. Hands growing calloused from hours of play and arbitrary agricultural upkeep. Fruit overgrew the trees and plummeted to the ground without being eaten, bending the heavy branches as they went.
Overhead there were humans in flight, colorful delights. Canada Geese swooping in for a treat while squirrels buried their lives in our walls. Life bloomed in Pompeii. It was glorious, wonderful- We had a symphony in the trees. Cicadas and sparrows sang out an opera of peace. The world was ultraviolet to behold so we held our eyes open waiting to see more. And we did.
I can remember now, when we stood on the back porch of Pompeii and let the world go on as ours fell down. We held hands as the darkness took the light, letting our home be forever shrouded by the memory of one dark day. We breathed in the death, choking on circumstance as the world became grey. And the city of Pompeii was forgotten.”
He paused to ash his cigarette. The heavy, hot, drooping mass fell lazily to the ground, sitting for a moment. He let out a long smokey breath and allowed his air to push the ash out into the wind. He watched it for many minutes, as if he could see the path of every singed piece as they sauntered off into oblivion. I thought he might go on, but instead, sadness filled him suddenly, and after crushing out his cigarette, he said with a long breath-
“I only really remember the view.”
One Divided NATion 