The challenge was to write one impossible thing and make it believable. Here is my story called “Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust”. Word Count : 1,038

They say the human body is a composition of dirt and sky and that’s how I survived the nuclear holocaust. I was on my way to see my mom in Billings, Montana and enjoying the local country music station. The broadcast was interrupted by the woot of a siren and then the robotic warning that “The Bomb” was on its way to the United ‘fucking’ States of America. I pulled over to the side of the road, got out of the car and buried myself in the dirt. Why did I do it? Maybe it was because I knew I was already dead and I wanted a proper burial. Maybe some primal instinct to bury my head in the sand so as not to believe my ears. Whatever the reason, I buried myself and in an instant I felt the ground get warm. It got too hot breathe but soon there was a taste of copper with every breathe. Hardly refreshing but at least I was breathing.

The wind blew the dust across my face and by and by it uncovered me completely. I couldn’t see an inch above me. It was just more and more dust. I stood up and let the wind push me in its direction. I trudged for what felt like miles and eventually fell down dead tired. Unfortunately I wasn’t.

When I woke up, it was dark and the wind had all but stopped. In every direction I couldn’t see anything. No cars, no trees, no crops, no nothing. Nothing but ashes and me. I called out for anyone and realized immediately that I was nowhere near a town. I was at least 10 miles away from Billings before, but now, who knows. I started to walk in what I thought was east.

Every step I felt for the ground to be solid. If I could find the I-90, I could find my way to people. If I had survived, some else had to also; but for now I was a nuclear Adam, the first man to walk in the new world.

Each step that crunched the ground reminded me of how alone I was. The only other sound was my growling stomach. I pushed aside my hunger and tried to focus on finding the road but the pangs were eating my insides raw. I had pockets of lint. I knew nothing was in the car if I ever found it. I didn’t hear a howl or anything like an animal but there was the chirping of what I thought were crickets.

I reached down into the feathery ash to grab the insects. I had seen enough of Survivor and the nature channel to know I could eat almost anything organic and I would be nourished. I felt a fluttering in my hand. I put the bug in my mouth before I lost my nerve. I found a few more and chewed them to a coarse paste and swallowed. It slid like a rock down my throat. Not the best meal I have ever had, but it was better than nothing.

I passed a few more rocks into my stomach before moving on. I tripped over the I-90 after an hour or two. Time is relative in a world without electronics. I checked my cellphone but it was obvious its circuits were fried during the blast. I threw it away; who could I call now anyway?

I continued towards the city and a grey dawn greeted me with little warmth.

Battered vehicles and bodies in various states of decay frighten me anew with each find. All the faces though were staring up to the sky and video reels of mushroom clouds played in my mind. My hopes of finding another human alive festered into grief. Would I find my mother alive? I needed to find her, she could make it better. If not, I just needed to find her and give her the respect she had shown me all my life.

The hunger came back and I listened for the chirps. They were quiet now. Did crickets only make noise at night? No, crickets were noisy little shits. What did I hear last night? What could have survived a nuclear war with me? I didn’t answer that question. I didn’t want to know.

I began looking into cars for water and drank anything that resembled nourishment. Who cares if I got sick now? I survived didn’t I? I was invincible now. I would never die.

Thoughts and spoken words when you are alone have the same noise level.

My feet hurt with blisters. I could feel the sweat between my toes but I felt cool under the full day sun.  Should I continue? Was this a fool’s errand? Of course my mom was dead; everyone was dead. Except for people in bomb shelters but they wouldn’t be out by now. Radiation lasted 25 years? Hell maybe longer but at least I knew that I would find someone and that seed of faith kept me walking.

I babbled along until I came upon a grey sign that probably used to say Billings, The Magic City, home of Calamity Jane and the 11th leg of The Amazing Race 9. I cried when I saw the empty sign.  I knew I would find a giant graveyard. Hollow gravestone buildings that marked the end of life as I knew it.

My stride had slowed to a saunter. The sun silently slipped behind my head and set. The ground began to chirp up at me again. My stomach was afraid to growl in fear of getting another stony dinner. I knew the streets well enough and walked them in the dark to my mom’s house. The house sounded like a dysfunctional jug band. The windows were shattered and whistling. The door swung freely on the hinge and beat itself back and forth. A rattle from inside the house completed the trio.

I sat on the stoop and sang about how my father left us. My mother fed us and I was the pearl of the world’s ocean. Now everything was ashes and dust and go on I must and find a way to repopulate this broken down Eden.