Author: Harold Loomis

I dream of fire. Not the warm fire thawing out your fingertips on a cold morning but the all-consuming fire of the Rock. That is what everyone called the meteor that hit the earth. Just, the Rock. Sounds simple, I know. Like something you would chuck in the river on a warm summer day. I don’t know if I remember what warm is.

I do remember when it happened. The news said that it hit the Philippines. I swear I could feel the ground shake. We all didn’t care too much here in Texas. Nobody did. All those people, evaporated in an instant. Billions of gallons of water flash boiled. The global temp rose for a while. Then after all the ash blotted out the sun, it got cold. Very cold.

Because most of my town began freezing to death, I decided to head West. Before the news shut down there were stories that people were taking drastic measures to survive. I am trying to make it to El Paso. I heard they are digging into the mountains there for protection and geo-thermal energy.
The roads are so broken and frost heaved that you couldn’t drive them. Even if they weren’t covered in 10 feet of snow. It is hard to move with all of this clothing but I would be dead without it.

When my last neighbor in Azle, Texas asked me why I’m going, I told him that dying anywhere is bad but dying here is worse.

My fingers are so cold. My body is numb.

My house’s gas line ruptured at the street a few weeks ago. No gas equals no heat. I woke up cold. Mom, dad and sis were colder. I couldn’t stay there anymore. I had a lot of houses to choose from. I just had to take the bodies out into the snow. Hello Mr. Johnson. One two three, heave. Goodbye Mr. Johnson.

I then decided to leave. I knew it would be long. I had no idea the cold would be this bad. You feel protected in a town and in a home.

How long has it been, weeks, months? So tired, so cold. I hope this is the right direction. I think it is. The blinding snow gave way a little bit. I dug the flashlight out of my outer layer. If I didn’t keep it warm, it wouldn’t work. I think I see something. I shuffled as fast as I could towards it. It was half buried in the snow. It had a green reflective face. It was a sign attached to a metal pole. I crouched as far as all my clothing would let me. I grunted as I dug the sign out. It was rimmed in a white reflective border and it said “Welcome to.” I dug more furiously and began to pant. Could I be here, in El Paso? Maybe Midland? Maybe I overshot and I am in New Mexico. I dropped the flash light and kept digging. I had to know.

I finally cleared what I thought was going to be enough and I sat back gasping for air. My hand grabbed for the light. Was I here? Is this my new home? I can’t take any more walking.
The light hit the sign and the reflectiveness made me squint. The cheerful “Welcome to Azle, Texas Population 14,126” beamed back at me.

I laid back. Starring into the ash black sky. I blinked, cracking my frozen tears. I thought, dying anywhere is bad but dying here is worse.