The Last Geranium: Quietus Aeternum🔊

Even in the darkest recesses of the universe, a light flickered, flickering hope in the hearts of many. It was a place where birth and death were simultaneous, where the words 'before' and 'after' were synonymous. The place was Addis Ababa, Earth, better known as Quietus Aeternum by its inhabitants.

It was the end of an era, where the last threads of civilization had knotted themselves into a tangled city, holding, albeit barely. Stripped of everything but the knowledge of its imminent demise, humanity had achieved an unearthly level of unity, fueled by the curiosity of knowing what lay beyond the point of extinction. Among those threads, lived a beacon, a man named Gabriel.

Of Gabriel, the people of Quietus Aeternum often said that he was a man who bore the charm of the stars in his eyes. His optimism was infectious, and generations of children had grown up listening to his tales about a former Earth whose rivers flowed freely and whose mountains touched the sky. Old and young alike found solace in Gabriel's stories, a sweet respite from the mounting tension of their shrinking city.

In this epoch of bewildered humanity, Gabriel held custody of the very last seeds of Earth's flora. As the city's caretaker, he harbored the soul of a gardener, spreading life with the gentleness of a zephyr. In Gabriel's green sanctuary, people could taste the nectar of fruits, smell the intoxicating scent of flowers; they could touch the textured leaves, listen to the music played by the trees, and see the parade of colors.

The highlight of the Garden, as it was fondly called, was the geranium, with vibrant hue as red as Gabriel's hope. Every morning people would gather to witness the blooming of the geranium, a ritual symbolizing birth, renewal and, in a metaphysical sense, the triumph of life over death.

As time wore on, observations painted a grim picture of the future. The Garden was deteriorating. Unable to conquer nature's primal laws, the last dregs of life were giving way to decay. Gabriel knew it, as did the city. One morning arrived without the blooming of the geranium. The city collectively held its breath, its heartbeat syncing with the silent Garden.

In the face of impending doom, Gabriel invited everyone to the Garden one last time. With age-dealing hands, he cradled a withered branch, concealing something within his palm.

As he tenderly opened those hands, a gasp traveled through the crowd. It was a seed, a germ of life, the last remnant of the geranium.

Arm outstretched, Gabriel turned towards them, his voice echoing through the silence, 'In the face of oblivion, we taught unity to the universe; in the dirt, we found life. In this seed, lies our persistence, our resilience. The story of us.' With one last look at the gathered crowd, he let the seed go.

In the silence that followed, a child from the crowd ran forward, scooping up the seed. There was no coming apocalypse, no shaking earth, no flashes of death. There was a hush, a pause, as every eye looked at the hope held in the child's palm. A new cycle had begun, perhaps the last, yet it was the birth of humanity's unwavering spirit. Quietus Aeternum lived on, a light, in the darkest recesses of the universe.