Saffron
Saffron watched the sky turn back and the blue sink beneath, get smaller, become green, become white and blue again. To Saffron, the earth was melting and the sky was swallowing her whole, laughing with a mouth full of shining teeth at finally having her. And all around, the metal groaned and heaved: deep inside, she urged it to go further, faster.
“Oh, stay strong,” she prayed in her heart of hearts. “Run, run away! There’s nothing left down there besides dust and death!” She may have been young, her face without a single line, but still she knew there was no other way out. She was only one hundred years old, but there was no arguing with the elders. When they wanted to leave, it was time to go.
And down there, the cities were burning. They were crying out with their hearts that the end was near. Everything was crumbling. How could man live like that? Constantly tearing down his cities in fire and blood? Her mother said that more than likely, their civilization wouldn’t come to an end: that this was growth. Saffron shook her head and watched as in the window the little globe shrank and the darkness, studded with the souls of countless burning masses, instead formed their surroundings.
How many countless worlds had they visited? And every one of them burning! Countless little worlds hung, as though suspended in darkness around their suns, in perfect harmony. Not a single one on any of those worlds dared understand just how fortunate he was to say he possessed life. None of them understood the gift.
“God gave it to me,” said one when she asked.
“Certainly I will tell you where life comes from!” another declared, before plunging into a ridiculous description of chemical interactions.
“Does it matter?” a third asked, as she stood before him, her arms crossed, “It wastes time. Look at that sky! You don’t see something like that every day.” The sunset here looked like a giant mango disappearing beyond the horizon. And he was right. It took so many worlds before anyone even got nearly this close.
“You’re the first to have said that, you know,” she whispered in his ear, playing with the curls of his dark brown hair, like chocolate swirls.
“Am I the first to do this too?” he asked, and leaned in, his lips touching hers. A thrill shot along her nerves and shook her. There was nothing from all the worlds before this one and nothing from all the memories of the elders that could have prepared her for this. As he drew back to glance in her eyes, she made a mental note to record this explicitly in the records for whoever might one day return to this twirling ball of rock.
“Give me your hand,” she said. Without question, the man handed it to her. What perfectly glimmering eyes in that sunset! Saffron closed his hand and then hers around his. “Now close your eyes, squeeze your hand really, really tight and imagine the sun is in your hands.”
One moment passed, and she could feel her grip slipping, a second and she was like a mist, one more and she was no more. He opened his eyes, expecting to see her. Far above, from the speeding ship, Saffron could still see him and smiled. The man took two steps along the beach before shaking his head and scratching his long locks. Something fell from his palm.
Perhaps, the look he directed at the sky after the initial shock wore off of seeing what was inside the ring that had fallen from his fingers was why the elders had set out on the quest so many ages ago. In those eyes reflected two shining fires more beautiful than the universe that hung suspended in the ring in his hand. Like two perfect trackers, those eyes seemed to follow where she went until the ship was well outside the planet.
“Oh, stay strong,” she whispered again. “I’m running away, but I’m glad you’re not. You will see me again…”
