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Description
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In the semi- darkness of pre-dawn, Siwa tiptoed passed her sleeping siblings and parents and slipped out through the cloth that covered their doorway. Her satchel waited for her just outside, and she slung it over her thin shoulders and grabbed up her picking stick.

Beneath her bare feet the earth was barren and dry, dusty ground that stretched on for miles all around. She wandered to the south and to the west, seeking an end to the dryness; she would find cool mud near the mouth of the river, to be sure. She would also find whatever had washed ashore there. Hopefully, salvageable things.

There were others already there when she arrived, because the truly experienced knew that getting there well before sunrise meant they could avoid the smoldering heat of the unchecked sun once it climbed above the mountain ranges to the northeast. Siwa would arrive that early, if she didn't have to stay up late and clean at night. The other women there fixed her with glares to warn her away from their scavenging places. She avoided them with practiced ease, moving up the muddy, littered riverbank, and settled down near the mouth of a wide round pipe that expelled foul smelling ooze.

She crouched near it, poking at what it excreted with rapt interest. Bluish black ooze, thick and smelling of chemical rot. She'd touched it with her bare hand once before, when she'd first found it. At first nothing had happened, but then her skin had burned and cracked and bled. The wounds it had caused had quickly grown infected and she'd fallen ill to the point of near-death. Even so, now recovered, she couldn't seem to arrest her curiosity.

Someone shuffled up behind her, and she turned her wide eyes on an old, haggard woman. She was so thin that Siwa was sure she could float away on the wind, and her fingers were long and gnarled like dry branches.

"Do not touch," the woman said, shaking a stick at Siwa and making her scramble away, "Poison!"

Siwa glared at her fiercely, "I know!"

"You know is poison?" the woman asked snottily, "But you play with like toy? Stupid child."

Siwa stood at her full height, nearly three feet tall, and crossed her arms, "Not child."

"How old you?" the woman asked, taking surprisingly quick steps close and prodding Siwa roughly in the arm.

"Eight!" the girl said, slapping away the old woman's hands.

The woman let loose a cackle of a laugh, "You are child. Stupid child. Not to be played with, poison. Not to be touched. You look; kills fish. Kills children. Kills everything."

The riverbank was littered with fish, the ooze clinging to their scales and eating through them like acid. Siwa followed the woman as she walked further north along the river, gesturing to the few bedraggled plants that clung to life, to the other things that had washed up in the mud.

Human remains, bits and pieces of recognizably homo sapien body parts, greeted them in a stretch of muck. The old woman used her stick to point out the spots where the putrid muck had clung to the skin and rendered it cracked and bleeding.

"You see?" she asked, nodding, "You no touch, it kill you."

Siwa followed her further, towards a high, steep hill, "Where it come from?"

The old woman gestured widely, "Everywhere. Is from before."

"Before?"

An emphatic nod, "Before. Long before." She began to gesture with her free hand, using her stick to pull herself up the hill, "They fly and they make it fall from the sky. White clouds that choke and make us bleed."

"Why they do that?" Siwa asked, following close at the woman's heels.

The thin woman gave an inelegant shrug, drawing wheezing breaths, "Kill the unwanted things. Plants, animals."

"What happened?" the girl pressed, "Why they not stop?"

"Kill the plants," the old woman said, "and the buggies starve, then the animals starve, then we starve. They not see it, they fly like nearsighted birds and not see the clouds of death. When they do see, already dead. Too late."

"What was like before?" Siwa asked, panting slightly as they continued up the immense hill.

"Alive," the old woman said, "Was alive, and was green. Could drink water and eat fish. Sun not burn then like now."

"Why not?"

"Earth protected us," the old woman said, "We kill the earth, it not protect us. We burn the earth, now the sun burn us."

"Why we kill the earth?" Siwa demanded as they neared the crest of the hill.

The old woman sighed, "You ask much, maybe not so stupid. Maybe wise child."

"Why?" Siwa pressed, her voice growing whiny.

"Because was ours to kill!" the old woman snapped. "Was ours to conquer like enemy. To be beaten into submission. We inherit the earth from god, and it was unruly thing. We beat it and burn it and shape it."

Siwa frowned, "Now earth inherit us? Beat us? Burn us?"

A surprised laugh as they finally reached the top of the hill, "Yes. Yes, wise child. Now we be unruly and need beating."

Siwa inhaled several deep breaths of sharp, stinging air and surveyed the valley that stretched out below them. It was a place of hard, pale ground, devoid of life. The old woman struggled to catch her breath and gestured out with her stick.

"Is much water there," she said, "But does not bring life. Brings death."

"Where you go now?" Siwa asked when the woman began making her way down the hill's other side.

The old woman turned to her with a weary look, "Am thirsty. Will drink."

Description
+++
+++

In the semi- darkness of pre-dawn, Siwa tiptoed passed her sleeping siblings and parents and slipped out through the cloth that covered their doorway. Her satchel waited for her just outside, and she slung it over her thin shoulders and grabbed up her picking stick.

Beneath her bare feet the earth was barren and dry, dusty ground that stretched on for miles all around. She wandered to the south and to the west, seeking an end to the dryness; she would find cool mud near the mouth of the river, to be sure. She would also find whatever had washed ashore there. Hopefully, salvageable things.

There were others already there when she arrived, because the truly experienced knew that getting there well before sunrise meant they could avoid the smoldering heat of the unchecked sun once it climbed above the mountain ranges to the northeast. Siwa would arrive that early, if she didn't have to stay up late and clean at night. The other women there fixed her with glares to warn her away from their scavenging places. She avoided them with practiced ease, moving up the muddy, littered riverbank, and settled down near the mouth of a wide round pipe that expelled foul smelling ooze.

She crouched near it, poking at what it excreted with rapt interest. Bluish black ooze, thick and smelling of chemical rot. She'd touched it with her bare hand once before, when she'd first found it. At first nothing had happened, but then her skin had burned and cracked and bled. The wounds it had caused had quickly grown infected and she'd fallen ill to the point of near-death. Even so, now recovered, she couldn't seem to arrest her curiosity.

Someone shuffled up behind her, and she turned her wide eyes on an old, haggard woman. She was so thin that Siwa was sure she could float away on the wind, and her fingers were long and gnarled like dry branches.

"Do not touch," the woman said, shaking a stick at Siwa and making her scramble away, "Poison!"

Siwa glared at her fiercely, "I know!"

"You know is poison?" the woman asked snottily, "But you play with like toy? Stupid child."

Siwa stood at her full height, nearly three feet tall, and crossed her arms, "Not child."

"How old you?" the woman asked, taking surprisingly quick steps close and prodding Siwa roughly in the arm.

"Eight!" the girl said, slapping away the old woman's hands.

The woman let loose a cackle of a laugh, "You are child. Stupid child. Not to be played with, poison. Not to be touched. You look; kills fish. Kills children. Kills everything."

The riverbank was littered with fish, the ooze clinging to their scales and eating through them like acid. Siwa followed the woman as she walked further north along the river, gesturing to the few bedraggled plants that clung to life, to the other things that had washed up in the mud.

Human remains, bits and pieces of recognizably homo sapien body parts, greeted them in a stretch of muck. The old woman used her stick to point out the spots where the putrid muck had clung to the skin and rendered it cracked and bleeding.

"You see?" she asked, nodding, "You no touch, it kill you."

Siwa followed her further, towards a high, steep hill, "Where it come from?"

The old woman gestured widely, "Everywhere. Is from before."

"Before?"

An emphatic nod, "Before. Long before." She began to gesture with her free hand, using her stick to pull herself up the hill, "They fly and they make it fall from the sky. White clouds that choke and make us bleed."

"Why they do that?" Siwa asked, following close at the woman's heels.

The thin woman gave an inelegant shrug, drawing wheezing breaths, "Kill the unwanted things. Plants, animals."

"What happened?" the girl pressed, "Why they not stop?"

"Kill the plants," the old woman said, "and the buggies starve, then the animals starve, then we starve. They not see it, they fly like nearsighted birds and not see the clouds of death. When they do see, already dead. Too late."

"What was like before?" Siwa asked, panting slightly as they continued up the immense hill.

"Alive," the old woman said, "Was alive, and was green. Could drink water and eat fish. Sun not burn then like now."

"Why not?"

"Earth protected us," the old woman said, "We kill the earth, it not protect us. We burn the earth, now the sun burn us."

"Why we kill the earth?" Siwa demanded as they neared the crest of the hill.

The old woman sighed, "You ask much, maybe not so stupid. Maybe wise child."

"Why?" Siwa pressed, her voice growing whiny.

"Because was ours to kill!" the old woman snapped. "Was ours to conquer like enemy. To be beaten into submission. We inherit the earth from god, and it was unruly thing. We beat it and burn it and shape it."

Siwa frowned, "Now earth inherit us? Beat us? Burn us?"

A surprised laugh as they finally reached the top of the hill, "Yes. Yes, wise child. Now we be unruly and need beating."

Siwa inhaled several deep breaths of sharp, stinging air and surveyed the valley that stretched out below them. It was a place of hard, pale ground, devoid of life. The old woman struggled to catch her breath and gestured out with her stick.

"Is much water there," she said, "But does not bring life. Brings death."

"Where you go now?" Siwa asked when the woman began making her way down the hill's other side.

The old woman turned to her with a weary look, "Am thirsty. Will drink."