A Better Day

A Better Day

“Day 652. Flash. Issue 51. Flash collection still incomplete.” Steve writes on a charred, leather notebook. Amidst the dusty space laden with cans of food and other related scraps, Steve sits himself behind a neatly organized desk. He then opens a small drawer and tosses the notebook inside.

Steve takes off his leather-clad armor and throws them aside. Placing his gun down onto the clean table, he carefully unloads the magazine and cleans the dust off his rifle, before putting the magazine back in again. Before reclining onto the couch, he grabs an issue of “the flash” from a bookshelf. The bookshelf is tightly packed with thin issues of comics. All superheroes related. The unusually neat bookshelf would be a sight to see inside the poorly organized dwelling of Steve. Behind the shabby driver’s seat lies the entire life of Steve. Cans of food placed on top of old photographs, electronic devices that no longer work, little toys and trinkets… and food scraps. Lots of them. But… I guess it didn’t make sense for Steve to clean them up anymore. He’s got nothing to prove to anyone… if there’s anyone left. He likes to convince himself that he enjoys the solitude… but they’re gone. All of them. Which might be why Steve didn't mind showing off his guns anymore. In fact, he has to keep them visible and easy to reach.

The charred and faded edges of the comic magazines had been polished to a point that under the illumination of the dim lights on the RV a gleaming crescent can be found on the covers.

Steve wipes his new collection down with a grayish tablecloth and sits down on the couch. The plush animals on the side of the couch aren’t good company, but they’re the best he’s got. Just a little better than his guns. Without a word, he glances at the little pig and his other plushies, and reclines on the couch. A wire sticks out among the large jumble of wires. Steve plugs that into the old smartphone with a cracked screen. He taps the screen in quick succession and through a speaker behind him, a faint, but soothing tune plays. The screeching noise of the speaker can’t make anything sound remotely acceptable. But to him, that’s the only music he hears. That’s the last music anyone hears. And that’s why it will always be soothing for him.

Finally setting the mood, Steve flips open the cover of his newest collection. Drifting away in the music and the flashy colors Steve quietly hums along with the record. And as he eyelids slowly drop, he struggles to walk to the bookshelf and carefully dusts the book and places it onto the bookshelf. Propelling himself onto the pull-out couch, everything fades to black.

Steve wakes up in a skin-tight latex suit with a mask with lighting bolts on the side. After a glance around he pets the plushies next to him, picked up the go-bag that never leaves his side, and ran. He ran as fast as he could. He could see the sun rising from the west side, slowly coloring the skies orange… the distant cities became closer and closer. Then there were people! People being chomped on by giant beasts! Menacing beasts with marvelous strength and a hideous appearance. Their rotting brains are showing through their broken skull. Nobody knows where they came from and why they came. Although the great pain they cause should convince

anyone that they shouldn’t exist. Slowly the beasts returned onto the trucks and people slowly returned to normal… and they lived. Time moved in reverse and everything became the way it once was.

“The past.” Steve thought to himself. Steve couldn’t start running after he saw the beasts return onto the trucks. But as soon as he stopped running, the beasts came out again. So he kept running, faster and faster. He stopped until he's on a soft patch of grass. It's good to lay on the grass and dream. The past is a simpler time. A better time. But who gets to relive it? Steve tried to savor that moment. But a huge shake had him wake up in bed again. This time, no longer in a latex suit. He is still surrounded by all that dust, food cans and wires.

“Shit.” Steve whispered quietly. He knows something is deeply wrong. He was not supposed to be here, at this moment. It’s good to dream. But now’s simply not the time. Steve might have to learn that the hard way.

Nights are hard. After the incident. No one is left. Steve is left to his own devices. He likes the solitude. At least that’s what he’d tell himself. One thing’s for certain. At night, Steve is never alone. Winged beasts now own the night skies. Their 4-legged land counterpart owns the city once owned by people. Steve has developed a routine form himself. “RV goes underground at night” was something he plastered onto the reading space to remind himself of not staying in a dream for too long! But now is not the time to think of the past. Now is the time to be fearful of what comes next. And possibly grieve for it.

With great haste Steve climbed onto the driver’s seat, started up the engine and prepared to drive away from the action.

The degraded highway is no match for the oversized wheels Steve installed on his RV. Neither is other assorted debris as the over-engineered bull bar pushes them away at ease. A winged beast landed in front of the RV and snarled at the driver. But it is no match to the eyeless force of the engine. Like a frenzied rhino, Steve speeds through the old highway.

But, the winged beasts won’t leave him behind. Their sharpened claws started to cut through the RV. It started shaking more and more.

The RV finally toppled. The winged beasts were crushed along with the fallen RV. The sheer force of the engines kept the RV sliding by it’s sides. Steve was badly bruised and bleeding. But then he saw the Flash. The flash came. He broke the window and picked Steve up like a newborn baby. For a moment, Steve felt that way too. Then, the flash started running. Faster, Faster and Faster, through the highway, back to the city, the sun rose from the west again. And then, the beasts went back. The people went back. And the Flash placed Steve on a patch of warm grass, facing the sun. Surrounded by his friends, Steve smiled as the slowly setting sun leaves the horizon. And then it never rose again. At least he smiled. At least... he lives forever, in a simpler day, a simpler time, and a better day.