Cob

Cob dragged his dark, stone legs over the next clump of soil and grass, grunting in exhaustion. His rugged, rocky limbs ached violently, but not nearly as much as his heart. He yearned for something—something he wasn’t sure he could ever reach. However, he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

At the top of the starlit hill, he straightened his posture, standing firm and tall, and gazed up at the midnight sky. He could see everything he had ever wanted in those stars.

He carefully arranged his words in a polite manner in his mind, preparing to speak his request. ‘Hello up there. I am Cob, though I’m sure you already know that.’

He paused for a moment, waiting for a response. No such luck.

‘I would like to request an audience with the crescent moon,’ he stated aloud.

The sky above him responded, distorting and spreading with a static-like grain around the curve of the moon. It twisted slightly, signalling the awakening of its conscience. Facial features began to push out from the its glowing surface, crusty and cracked at the edges. A wide, frowning mouth emerged from a deep yellow ravine. Two bright white eyes peeked from giant, empty craters, and two ancient ridges met at one end, forming the semblance of a nose.

Through its frowning mouth, the moon spoke down to Cob in a booming, planet-trembling tone. ‘You have quite some nerve showing your face here,’ it told him.

‘I mean no offence, I swear,’ Cob replied. ‘But I wish to secure a seat in the afterlife, and—’

The moon stretched and bellowed, shaking the ground around the hill’s edge. ‘You will never have such a privilege, cobble boy, not with those rugged, sharp features.’

The moon’s wide frown reflected on Cob’s face as he sighed and collapsed to his knees. ‘Oh, I see.’

As the sun rose again, Cob stumbled towards the furthest stretch of a long, grey road. He poked the sharp, rocky texture of the ground with his foot, testing its roughness. And indeed, it was rough, confirmed by the new dent in the shape of his clumped, stone toes.

Bending his limbs, he lowered himself to the ground until his face was pressed tightly against it. Then he began to scrape his head from side to side, twisting his neck to cover every corner. Debris crumbled away as he worked to change his form, and he felt every fragment as they broke off.

After a long, gruelling day, Cob finally gave up. He had changed the shape of his head, cutting the rough edges, but in the process, had created even more. His head now tilted in new, awkward ways, even less symmetrical than before. In his attempt to fix himself, he had broken himself in a hundred new places. His soul stung with a sharp pain. He was hopeless.

‘I believe I can help you,’ a kind voice announced from behind.

Cob turned to see an older man whose stone frame was smooth and beautiful. His features were perfectly even on each side of his spherical head. He was as close to perfection as Cob could imagine.

‘I’ve been trying all day, but it’s no use,’ Cob told the stone man, his voice trembling with a whimper. The man smiled gently and extended his hand, offering Cob a chance. As Cob reached up to grasp it, the road beneath them began to shift. A hole formed swiftly beneath their feet and swallowed them whole.

Cob fell through soil and worms, slipping deeper every second. The journey was easy and smooth; the chaos was as calm as it could possibly be. Then he landed, slamming suddenly onto a new ground. A gloomy room of mud revealed itself around him, with burning torches spread across. Cob wasn’t sure where exactly he was.

A screeching sound from an old, rusty pair of wheels rattled Cob’s brain as the stone man entered the room. He was pulling over a tall cut-out frame within a hot, burning metal plate, about the height of himself. It held the shape of the stone man’s body, with perfect, round features.

The edge of the metal glowed red and simmered like a hot grill.

‘I’m not sure I want this,’ Cob said to the stone man.

This seemed to upset him. He turned away from the frame and glared into Cob’s eyes with fury, as if he had taken offence.

‘Do you not wish to make peace with your God, cobble boy?’ he growled.

‘Well, yes, of course I do. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.’

‘Then act like it. Walk through the frame, and you will be pure.’

Cob took a step forward towards the sizzling, simmering metal frame. This is what I want, he told himself. The walls, however, could see through his fake desires. The mud curled in discomfort. Cob noticed a worm desperately pushing itself out of the swirling mud, its body bending with a judgemental reflex.

‘This is what I want,’ Cob told the worm.

‘Of course it is,’ the stone man affirmed, guiding Cob forwards. ‘You could finally be beautiful. Doesn’t that sound glorious?’

So, Cob walked through the frame with one swift step. The sensation was so sudden that it didn’t register straight away, but the burning hot frame had made him feel cold—freezing cold, in fact. He reached up to his head and felt the huge clumps of melting stone, dribbling and pouring from his sides. A harrowing pain threatened to emerge, but the shock was just enough to suppress it, holding it back.

‘Turn around,’ the stone man commanded. And so Cob did.

He was blasted in the face by a hosepipe pumping cold, dirty water, wiping away every last bit of his melted body. The mud walls stretched out across the ground, swallowing every fragment, before pulling back and reshaping themselves. They formed an indented section in the wall, revealing a wide mirror.

Cob saw his reflection. He was unrecognisable—smooth and polished. His features were soft, though he was still glowing red at the edges, simmering hot, with a few small cracks left over. He supposed he could never be perfect, but this was undoubtedly an improvement.

‘You’re ready,’ the stone man told him.

Cob dragged his dark, stone legs over the next clump of soil and grass, grunting in exhaustion. Today, however, he felt hopeful. He reached the hilltop once again and gazed up at the midnight sky.

‘I would like to request an audience with the crescent moon,’ he stated aloud.

The sky above him responded, distorting and spreading with a static-like grain around the curve of the moon. It stretched and reached out slightly, signalling the awakening of its conscience. Its facial features once again pushed out from its glowing surface. A wide, smiling mouth emerged from the deep yellow ravine. Its two bright white eyes peeked from the same giant, empty craters, and two ancient ridges met once more at one end, forming the semblance of its nose.

Through its smiling mouth, the moon spoke down to Cob in a booming, universe-expanding tone. ‘How can I be of assistance, my child?’ it asked.

Cob’s head was glowing brighter, refusing to cool. But he wouldn’t allow the pain to hold him back from this opportunity. ‘I wish to secure a seat in the afterlife,’ he told the moon.

The buzzing, static sky lit up slightly, and the moon’s wide grin reached up to its white eyes. ‘Your wish may be granted. Your seat is secured,’ it said.

The moon’s wide grin reflected itself onto Cob’s crackling, red, rocky face. Those stretching features, however, pushed his face to the brink. His mouth crumbled, and his cobbled teeth began to fall out. Next were his eyes, crashing through his nose as they fell. His head glowed the brightest red yet, and his smooth shape melted away, reverting to a smaller version of his original rugged form. His arms fell limp, swinging uncontrollably and smashing into his collapsing torso.

Within moments, Cob’s body crumbled into a pile of loose rocks, tumbling down the hill and becoming yet another layer of the road’s rough ground.

The moon watched, frowning in disappointment, before fading back into its slumber.