Flame : Word Prompt

 I wrote this for a word prompt. The word triggered a memory of a heart-rending incident that occurred last year, around this time. Its disheartening to see nature's fury destroy homes of a parallel community that exists along with mankind. Some of the images that I saw online, evoked a sense of helplessness and sadness. I can't imagine what those voiceless creatures would have gone through. This write up is all about finding a voice for my animal friends and how they would have felt seeing their homes wrecked by the flames of the forest. 

                                                                       Flame 

 

 

It was expected to be just another day in my life. I was tucked in my mother’s pouch. It was a regular routine for her to hop across the lush green open grasslands in the morning.  Together we’d enjoy the sunrise, the morning dew and the friendly sound of the birds. Everything was going well until we spotted a flash of orange at a distance. 

 

My mother stopped and sniffed. Something wasn’t right. The air was strangely thick. We watched the speck of orange turned bigger. I felt my mother’s body stiffen. Fear and panic clouded her usually calm face. The green carpet around us had miraculously turned into a shade of reddish orange. My mother broke into a run while I held on to her pouch. The orange ball followed us. I could hear my mother’s heavy breathing all the way until we reached the lake. We watched in horror as the flames wiped our home, the trees and shrubs.  What was happening? Where would we go? We watched our friends crying for help with anguish written all over their faces. We glanced at the skies and prayed for help. Days were spent in dodging this reddish-orange ball. No food, no sleep and incessant coughing. 

 

Finally, help came in the form of man. They wrapped us up in these woolen cloths and placed us in a car. They stroked us, speaking in a language I couldn’t decipher. Their delicate touch and compassion in their eyes, said it all. The act of kindness needs no language and transcends barriers between man and the beast. My mother threw her arms around an old lady, gratitude written all over her face. We were taken far from our homes to a strange place that was surrounded by white walls with strange looking objects. The humans placed us there, in a tender manner. We stayed there until we recovered. For nights, my mother and I dreamt about the orange ball chasing us. I’d wake up shrieking only to be cajoled by that kind faced lady.

 

Over time, we were back to nature’s abode with the same lush green meadows. My mother and I continued our routine. Yet it wasn’t the same. We were trapped with that strange feeling of fear. Fear of seeing that flame of the forest that had wrecked homes and the lives of our friends. 

 

Yours lovingly

The Kangaroo Survivor.