Air On My Tongue, Water In My Lungs

"Aren't you tired?"

Gemma shrugged, turning to face her exasperated sister who was sprawled out on the ground in a starfish position. They had been marching throughout a vast desert in search of a place to rest for the last day. "Not really," she responded. "I'm starting to become numb to the heat."

"Maybe that's because you're dehydrated, not because you're built differently than anyone else." Miriam refuted, rolling her eyes. Even in the middle of nowhere, the sun beaming on their eyes and the air scorching their skin, Miriam still found a way to argue with her older sister.

Before Gemma could rebuttal, the figure of her mother came into view with containers in her hands. "I got us water," Kirra smiled. "We'll find a place with more water soon, don't worry."

Through her mom's reassuring façade, Gemma knew that hope for the three was dwindling by the hour. Even her own soul was beginning to chip away like the fault lines scarring the Earth. With temperatures rising every day and the atmosphere unable to protect the planet from the sun's rays, the remainder of humanity has been searching for salvation somewhere on an Earth that was five degrees hotter than it was in 2022. Life had changed quickly then, and now every day since has been the same.

Miriam reached for a bottle, getting up from the sizzling grass and to her feet. The three began taking sips of water from their individual bottles, letting out sighs of relief and satisfaction once they were done. Gemma reached down to pick up her backpack, suggesting that it was time to keep moving. "Onwards again?" she suggested. Earning an unmotivated groan from Miriam and a nod from her mother, the three continued forward along the vast landscape.

With the sun making its way to the horizon, stars shining in space, and the moon to the sky, the energy of the three began to decrease. Miriam could barely hold herself up, Gemma was constantly bothered and blinded by the sweat trickling from her forehead and into her eyes, and Kirra had been aimlessly leading her daughters further into nature, unsure if continuing was worth it anymore.

Despite the dip in optimism, a small refugee village appeared in the distance with tents and cabins standing upright. They had managed to find a refugee village, some people already occupying tents and cabins. "We're camping out here for the night." Kirra sighed, leading them to an empty tent. They trudged over to the tent, unzipping the cloth and throwing themselves inside. The camp was somehow a bit cooler which relieved the stresses on Gemma's head.

Interested in who else was around, Gemma left the tent and observed the other people in the village. About five other families were present. Seeing other climate refugees after the length of their travels seemed almost foreign, so it was refreshing to see new humans around. "I can't wait till it rains again." Gemma thought, stuffing her hands into her worn-out jean shorts. Rumors of rain hitting the surface had been circulating but the path that her family was taking didn't cut into the heavy rainfall that others were subjected to.

Gemma's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Miriam's boots crunching against the ground, soon her sister came into view beside her. "How much longer do you think we can outrun this climate thing," she started. "I can barely breathe most of the time and I can tell mom is falling apart. Even in this village, it's blazing and I feel like I'm choking on my own oxygen."

Miriam wasn't really considered a deep thinker by her sister, but suddenly the light in which Gemma viewed her began to brighten. "I think we can live through it... but outrunning it seems impossible." Gemma responded, looking at the sky. "Wouldn't we just need to hope things will get better?"

"Your optimism is making me nauseous," Miriam scoffed. "But if hope will keep our family alive until we're safe, then I don't see why we wouldn't need it."

Kirra managed to pick herself up and listen in on her daughters' discussion, relieved that they weren't dying inside throughout this physically and mentally draining journey to paradise. She walked in between her daughters, hugging both of their shoulders. "You two make me very proud. You give me a reason to keep going through this," she whispered to them.

Even with the sweltering heat, Miriam and Gemma pulled closer to their mother and closed their eyes. The humidity had reached their lungs, heat staining their shoulders, and hope to blossom in their bonds.

Wet and cold.

Gemma thought she had been imagining the sensation that had just hit the sunburn on her shoulder. Eyes glued to the sky, her mouth opened in shock and soon formed into a smile. She reached her hands to the sky, eyes glistening with the reflection of the stars and the joy of her long-awaited wish.

"It's raining!" she exclaimed, laughing in between her words. "It's raining!"

Families started dispersing from their tents, all holding out their hands to feel the rain which soon turned to a downpour. Murmurs of relief and happiness spread like wildfire among the few people that were in the village.

Seeing hope in the form of liquid water, Kirra held her head back and stayed in the moment. She stuck her tongue out like she did when catching snowflakes in winter, only this time she caught raindrops. Her lungs felt as though they were clearing, and her outlook on possibility flourished. She looked over to see her daughters twirling each other around, smiles wide and faces drenched in rain.

It seemed naïve when Gemma said it, but perhaps she was right. Maybe the journey is worth the destination. Maybe the march to salvation could bring hope to the perceiver. Just maybe once her lungs cleared and mind left it's fog, for her daughters and herself, hope could cool their skin in the form of rain and touch their tongues once again.