Acid Rain

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The path was clear. For once, no one else was coming. No one else was going. There had been a public warning: today's rain was acidic. There were breathing problems related to acid rain. No one was going to stand outside without need. Not today. Except me. I felt it in my hair, and along my arms. It stung a little. It was like being cleaned away. The world was dirty. Filthy. We have been slowly washed away. Enough of this rain would kill off this wooded trail, I knew. The beauty would be gone long before it destroyed me. It would melt. Dissolve. I wondered how long it would take for me to dissolve with it. Shadows circled me, all but singing along with the drip-drip-dripping through the leaves. Lightweight poisons, slowly filling in all the dry spaces around me. On me. I sighed. Maybe the acid rain wasn't to wash away humanity. Maybe it was only meant to wash away the things we love. Our gardens, our fields, our statues and buildings... Perhaps it was trying to destroy only our hearts. Well, what was left of them. My steps squished just a little less, and splashed a little more. The trickle became a stream, and it hurt. No melting, no drowning. Only the burning sensation all across me. I sought shelter. I slept. I dreamed. I was found in the morning, police running to the frightened call of other hikers who imagined they'd found a corpse. There were questions, and people, and more people. Eventually I was home. Which is to say, I was left on the streets. I turned eastward, towards my little wooded path. I would need food along the way. If I was lucky, I could sleep there tonight, too.