Ark Angel

A story by Madhuri

And so it came to pass that the rains, which had continued for one long month with scarce a break, continued on, and on…Over the lands they fell, over the seas; everywhere. And the streams rose over their banks, the rivers shouldered up and cast themselves out over the fields, crept and then insisted themselves into the towns; the sea itself swelled, until it became clear that there would be no land left uncovered.

Our heroine, an optimistic lady of somewhat dusty years, flew out of a submerging island, hoping to find her family on the continent where she’d been born. (Many planes flew everywhere, hoping for a runway.)

And while the silver bird in which she sat coasted above an icy hinterland far below, where water froze, and froze – unbeknownst to the passengers, a Great Event took place down there: with great twists and torsionings, and massive grumblings and cracks and roars they could not hear, that vast landmass raised up three hundred feet, and stayed there.

When the plane had regained the earth, our heroine was in a city, much elevated, where lived her many kin. And she relished the meetings with nephews and grand-nephews, nieces and grand-nieces, brothers, and her ancient, fiery mother, who said enchanting things like a child does, in her supernumerary strangeness. For although many people had died in the earthquake many had survived, and life soon began to come back to a certain daily hum.

And after a month in that place, amongst the shuffling populace with their vapid faces, that she remembered well; with their cow-sized bulk and their large and black-oiled weaponry always near about them – as they again manned their borders even more forbiddingly, and found their food in laboratories, and drove their small fortresses about the long reaches of their country, with its now-more-slightly-rarified air – she thought; I’d rather live in an ocean liner.

And so she did.

Illustration by the author