The Melting

There’s no other way to tell the story. All I have’s got is these images. I’ve tried to think of another way. I can’t do more than show you the events that followed on from my sitting there watching, through my digital camera, the melting of the world.

The melting started only early yesterday. People came; moving fast and carrying everything they owned. They’re from past the horizon. They’re speaking of what I thought was nonsense. How could the world be melting? They insisted it wasn’t the ice caps, or everything of the sort. I’d doubted very word.

Everyone else had packed up and gone from this area by the next morning. I can’t believe that was only today. We could all now see the ‘melting’; for lack of a better word. The horizon’s losing ground; literally.

The colours suddenly looked so bright; like distant various coloured Christmas lights. I’d taken shot after shot. Liquid droplets of colour settled on my telephoto lens.

It’s her again. She still has that haunted look on her face. Each time she gets closer and more urgent with her gestures.

The young woman appeared in front of me four times so far; she’s sort has familiar features. No matter how close she gets, her form is lapsing; she’s loosing, not gaining physical solid form. Those blue eyes piece the world with hope and yet distrust. Something’s very wrong.

The first time I saw her, she was in the distance. That’s when I picked up my camera to get a view of who was waving their arms in my direction. No one else was around anymore to see her. Gone in their panic and noise.

I stood up to run. Nevertheless, I’m a photographer firstly. The chair rested empty in the rubble and dust; as if shaken by some recent earthquake. Adjusting for the shot, I chose the black and white setting. I join the photography league of the empty chair.

I moved forward. I wanted a photo of that usual and beautiful woman. Her focus so intent on me, and I on her. Each shot I’ve taken of her so far was blurred and muted the colours. Her silky light blonde hair appears white and hazy in many of the shots I have.

Who’s she any way? She appeared to recognise me; but from when and where?

Her words were lost to me. The movement of her mouth made no sense to me. I always meant to learn lip-reading; now I guess it’s too late now.

Time’s not the only thing against me. Some extraordinary force, pushed me backwards, revealing the ever-increasing ‘melting’. I can’t give in.

She stood on the edge of what’s left of the solid world. Herself not a part of it; though she seemed fixed in place, fading gradually as it melted around her.

I compel myself on, against the air current and whatever the other force could be called. That edge moved closer, bringer the young woman with it. Something’s not real; yet it was too real.

Then I stood there; face to face with her. Without waiting, I took that long desired shot of her. She became still and for a moment substantial. That image was worth the struggle.

She’d spoken without sound. I’d no idea how to respond. Her motions were without direction. I stayed next to her; waiting to see whatever was next.

The melting pushed us on, like an ingoing tide. There was no rubble left behind. It all just melted away; as if out of existent.

The mirrored glass of the car sale yard window showed a reflection of her and me. As we pasted I took images of the reflection; with the camera I held at my hip. The movement gradual, although at the same time so swift.

The young woman blurred into a solid form. Her touch as she took my hand was damp; as if only made of sweat and tears. However, it felt warm and surprisingly affectionate.

Then I felt her begin to seep under my skin. She was essence and core. A sister, I’d call her, of my valour and resolve. The thing I’d been missing all along.

The ‘melting’ stopped then. The world behind us didn’t return. There’s still no sea, land or sky. It’s blocked off by a solid wall built of fear and ignorance.

Don’t you become one of those who lived and died in that foolishness and inanity. I can only teach you one way. Each step I took a photo. There’s no other way to tell the story.