Somewhere behind the dense, dark-grey wall of clouds the
winter sun had risen. The thick blanket of freshly fallen,
pristine snow covered what had once been fields, meadows and
well-tended orchards before reverting to woodland a long time
ago. Through the naked forest trees, the irregular silhouettes
of the ruins of the city could be seen in the distance, now
mercifully covered by the same white blanket that ran uninterrupted
as far as the eye could see. The grotesquely shaped outlines
of the former houses, shops and factories were clearly visible.
The two gnomes hiding in the woodland sniffed the air and
inhaled the pure, clean odour of deep winter. A very different
winter for sure because the rumour had finally been confirmed!
A few centuries ago things had gone awry for men. The climate
had cooled at an unprecedented speed and suddenly mankind,
the master of the world, was in dire straits. They could not
adapt to the new conditions and rapidly dwindled in numbers.
Remnants of their species survived for a while, forever desperately
seeking food. But now they were no more and peace had returned
to Earth. There was only one thing left to do.
The gnomes sniffed the air again. They could not detect the
smell of humans anywhere and grunted satisfied. Gnomes had
always been careful to avoid people even as mankind spread
out. Deeper and deeper into the sacred forests they had fled
to places which humans would never be able to find.
Finally, the gnomes stepped out from the forest and walked
through the woodland into the city. Light-footed and clad
in a white cloak they were invisible to any but the sharpest
eye. Even their long peppered beards and dark-brown noses
sticking out from under the hood added to the perfect camouflage.
Both deeply inhaled the air and still, after all those centuries,
could detect the unwholesome smell of things unnatural. Gnomes
had a deep appreciation and understanding of the inter-connectedness
of life and, as such, abhorred the way humans had converted
this beautiful planet into a rubbish heap. Never erring from
their path, the two gnomes finally reached the dilapidated
building they were looking for. They stood silently in front
of it, suspiciously eyeing the dark, gaping hole that used
to be a door. Shreds of wood and twisted metal were still
suspended from heavily rusted metal hinges. With a resolute
grunt the older gnome stepped forward and disappeared through
the hole in the wall, closely followed by his younger colleague.
They entered a vast hall filled with the rich smell of decaying
plant matter. The gnomes smiled; Nature had a way of taking
over even these shrines to death and destruction. It was only
a matter of time. Gnomes lived long enough to have an inkling
of Nature’s greatest asset – the imperceptive,
continuous passing of deep time, in which every calamity was
healed. The older gnome pointed to the back of the hall, where
a hole indicated another doorway leading to other rooms. They
walked in total silence through the vast hall, passed through
the doorway and paused. A number of still locked metal doors
were branching off a central walkway. Right at the end of
the walkway was the huge, metal door the gnomes were looking
for. It had long since fallen off its hinges and was covered
in dirt and rust. The doorway it once covered showed signs
of having been hacked at with metal tools. Carefully avoiding
stepping on blank patches of concrete, they hesitatingly approached
the huge metal door. The smell of the rusted metal bit in
their noses and they both pulled a face but there was one
smell overriding everything else. The older gnome peered into
the semi dark interior of the safe. How a huge stash of cash
had survived the centuries in this safe was curious enough
but there it was. The money was still nicely wrapped in plastic
and stacked to a height of a maturing forest tree no more
than four years of age. There were three rows extending back
into the dark of the room. The older gnome opened his cloak
and took out a bundle of twigs from one of the pockets. He
divided the bundle of twigs into three parts and placed one
carefully under each of the metal crates on which the rows
of money rested. The younger gnome had already unwrapped a
few pieces of charcoal from a bark container and started blowing
gently on them. Once the pieces of charcoal started glowing
dimly he pushed one inside each bundle of twigs. Both gnomes
stood back and watched as the first wisps of smoke curled
upwards. The twigs started burning quickly and soon melted
plastic started dripping onto the small fire. The gnomes recoiled
as they got the first whiff of the burning plastic and money.
The stench was so intense that they instantly turned around
and left the safe, satisfied that their work was done. Once
on the outside of the building, they crossed the city very
quickly and only stopped at the edge of the forest. Looking
back, they already saw black smoke curling out of the building.
The contrast of the evil-looking black smoke and the snow-covered
landscape could not have been more dramatic. ‘The Council
is sure this will eliminate any possibility of any survivor
wanting to return.’ remarked the older gnome. ‘How
could money possibly attract them? You can’t eat it.’
replied the younger gnome somewhat indignant. ‘And yet
that is exactly what they would seek for reasons beyond understanding.’
The older gnome shook his head slowly. Stroking his beard,
he focused his piercing eyes far behind the spreading column
of smoke. Humans are gone forever. Many stories had been told
about their downfall over the last few centuries; stories
of how they chose to ignore the dying of animals and plants
around them and the changing climate of the planet. How they
had incomprehensibly done nothing substantial to ensure their
own survival, even though the answers to their predicaments
were staring them in their faces. Their path of destruction
was now at an end. The scars and the injuries to the land
would only be healed in deep time, but that did not matter.
Gnomes could wait. The younger gnome was clearly puzzled by
what he had witnessed over the last few centuries. ‘I
guess’ he thought aloud, ‘I guess, they just did
not understand that the purpose of every generation is simply
to pass on the Earth to the next.’ He sighed sadly.
‘Yes.’ replied the older gnome and suddenly laughed
heartily. ‘We have had to wait a few of our own generations
but the day The Old foretold has finally arrived.’ He
took a last look at the cloud of black smoke that still rose
from the city. ‘We can now start moving back into our
ancient lands’, he remarked thoughtfully. ‘Let’s
go and report to the Council’. With that he turned and
stepped into the forest followed by his still somewhat puzzled
younger friend. In an instant they had vanished leaving only
the snow-covered land and a thin column of black smoke behind.
