Dumb Luck

THE ABYSS : DUMB LUCK

And so I stood there, watching the abyss. A big gaping hole that had swallowed most of Europe. I was safe, I thought, unlike whatever fate had met those who had been taken away to the depths. Death most likely. I was unsure whether I should feel relieved for my own well-being or sad, so I decided to carry both. However, the sadness I felt was not nearly as genuine as my relief. I think the only time any person would feel otherwise would be the scenario in which a child is lost to the parent. I am no parent, so I cannot confirm this, other than to trust those who have told me how it is to be one.

I could see remnants of the surface poking up from the abyss  here and there, and as I spent the day walking around I came across the old train station. I used to ride it whenever visiting my grandparents by the coast. However, all that remained was a single red train cart, a tiny strip of tiled floor and a sign reading "mind the gap". I laughed. It was pretty much all I could do these days for entertainment. Find odd things and laugh at them.

I threw rocks a lot. It was a pass-time that for some reason was strangely satisfying when you had nothing else but pointing and laughing to do. Besides finding food that is. After a week I had started to throw rocks so far I couldn't hear it hitting bottom any longer. I doubt it was because I was  getting stronger. My comedy was running out of time; frustration was about to enter the stage, and as the third week passed, my local supermarket was running out of food. Soon I was throwing spoiled milk, rotten meat, eggs, all sorts of things that I hated finding, into the abyss.

Once, I picked up a fresh apple. It angered me greatly when I realized it was a decorative piece of plastic. The shiny green shell reminded me of what my stomach must have been like by now. I threw it towards the abyss, but its lightness was caught by a small gust of wind and it was carried back to safety. That made me snap. I yelled, I cursed, I said obscene things that would make most people step away from me in disgust. Had only most people lived to hear it.

For the first time that I can remember, I cried. It wasn't something I usually did. I considered myself a man, even if I was a bit too young to be called that by some, but nevertheless, I had been told that men weren't supposed to cry. At this very moment, I realized that this was about the stupidest thing someone had ever told me. How was it that I, out of every person I knew or cared about, had survived?

It was an infuriating improbability. I had never been good at math, but I had found a pen and paper in a lone drawer that had been separated from its unit (and everything else inside that house... and the house itself. Actually, how that single drawer had ended up there was a great mystery in itself, and probably highly improbable). With said tools I tried  calculating the odds of me surviving in the scenario that had unfolded. It didn't take many minutes before I realized that I couldn't possibly find all the variables needed for such, and gave up. I didn't really need math to figure out that I shouldn't be alive. All things considered.

I let my frustration overflow. I threw rocks like they were my most hated enemies, cursed as they gained air, dropped and disappaeared into the darkness without any audible thud to mark its journey's end. The last rock I threw, or rather, planned to throw, was halted by a sudden unknown force. My mind, clouded by the moment and several weeks of loneliness prior, was unable to identify what this soft and warm feeling could be. I must have stood there for a good ten seconds not knowing what had happened. I spoke a single word after that, questioning what it implied as I did...

"Hand?"