The ashes drifted down from the sky, covering everything for miles. Those ashes were people’s lives and memories, and he was there to stop more people’s memories from clogging the landscape.
Davis picked up his shovel and began to dig once again. While the task was physically and mentally grueling, he kept thinking how good it would feel to wash off those memories when the job was done and the fire was contained. But for now it was him and his shovel, and he wasn’t going to let those people down.
Memories are precious and shouldn’t go up in smoke.
I am one of the last of my kind. Our peaceful existence has been beset by a parasite that does not respect our ways. They assume we are not sentient because our movements are measured in generations. I know they have little intelligence since they think in the moment.
We develop thoughts that span generations. Our memories are ancestral. I can remember the beginnings of our time on the planet. I remember the births and deaths of the stars overhead. When one of us fall we mourn, but we know the memories are imprinted in the next generation.
The life giving sun and thirst quenching rain nourish us daily. We reach higher and higher as we grow in height and wisdom. This growth is our biggest strength and our greatest problem. The tallest and straightest of us are prime candidates for the barbaric practices of the parasites. They strip off our skin, live in our bones, and grind us into dust. Some show love, giving us hugs, but they are few and far between.
Still I will strive to grasp the sun. If the parasites come for me I will dedicate my spirit to the little saplings I leave behind and pray that they are allowed to grow in peace, knowing my memories will become one with the next generation of the trees.
“Young man,” said an older gentleman holding a futuristic device of LCD screens, nobs, and buttons, “would a movie of your life be interesting?”
“Hell yeah, dude,” Jeremiah said.
The man pointed his gizmo at Jeremiah and Jeremiahs world exploded as he fell to the ground. The electrodes that had smashed through his skull almost jerked out of his brain, but the barbs held them in. Jeremiah looked at the man as the old man pressed buttons. The device came to life, and Jeremiah could hear his memories begin to play on the device as his eyes faded to black.