BLACK ROSE

A. C. Dib 

Captain’s log, day 1.263 after the Apocalypse.

                            Nonothing. GUIMARÃES ROSA was right. “Nonothing” – “Nonada” in Portuguese − is a word that defines well my present situation. Nonothing. No. Nothing. Food, water, nature, men, women, civilization… nothing!

                            The process was slow: deforestation; air pollution, water pollution, soil pollution; urban growth; overpopulation; greenhouse effect; global warming; and, finally, the “Big Bang”… our Big Bang!

                            Those men… blind, selfish, greedy, idiots! They didn’t know when stop! They didn’t think about their own sons. They didn’t think about the future. But, what a future! ORWELL and KAFKA, together, couldn’t imagine such a future. “Brave New World”! Now it is too late!

Captain’s log, day 1.264 after the Apocalypse.

                            I had had, before, a beautiful house, a good job, respectable social position, and we had things in abundance. At present, I live in a dark basement. It’s my home.

                            I had a dog named Wolf. He was a good friend, loyal and very funny. Now, I raise rats and cockroaches. I depend on them to survive. I make clothes with rat’s fur, besides eating them and the cockroaches. Rats and cockroaches… I admire them. They are survivor, like me. Bacteria and viruses survived, too. But I don’t like them. I am afraid of them. But before, in good times, I also had fear of rats and cockroaches.

Captain’s log, day 1.264 after the Apocalypse, at night.

                            To tell you the truth, my life is not too bad. I even have a little greenhouse, here in my basement. Sun light and fresh air are no longer suitable for life. I use, then, artificial light. I have two little plants here: a lemon tree and “the rose”.

                            My lemon tree gives me oxygen, dry leaves and branches for the fire and vitamin “c”. Certainly, I won’t die of scurvy. It’s just a lemon tree, but I talk to it, like ZEZÉ talked with his orange tree.

                            The rosebush, on the other hand, is a special plant. Black rose. With genetic modification, done by scientists. But scientists couldn’t give the black rose a good fragrance. Its smell is not good. It reminds me of putrid flesh.

                            In my basement, I have a big battery that I call “matrix”. I also have a bike, which doesn’t move because it doesn’t have wheels. I cycle it to supply electric energy to matrix. I pedal a thousand times in the morning and a thousand times before going to bed. Riding my bike is good for my health. With matrix I can supply electric energy to my other machines: the urine filter, the air filter, bulbs, batteries, boiler, irradiation measurer, and others.

                            Oh, yes! My urine filter! With three liters of urine I can make a glass of fresh water, which is essential for my survival and the survival of my plants, my rats and my cockroaches.

                            With my excrements I can make good food, for my rats and my cockroaches. It’s better to eat rats and cockroaches than excrement!

Captain’s log, day 1.273 after the Apocalypse.

                            I really miss Laura. I miss her smell; I miss her long straight, black hair; her body; her shiny smile; her friendship. Dear Laura! My sweet love! Laura and I survived after the war over water. When all was finished, I talked to her:

                            − Now, we are Adam and Eve! We have to populate the planet!

                            But we couldn’t do that. Laura had cancer. I saved Laura’s music box. I listen to it every day. Allegro vivace by MOZART.

                            I saved a little treasured too, that I put away in my cupboard: five and a half bottles of scotch whisky. But I don’t drink it; I use it like medicine, to disinfect the wounds on my skin. A handsome leper… I also saved a box of cigars. But they dried out. I threw them in the fire.

Captain’s log, day 1.277 after the Apocalypse.

                            Every day, I go out to explore the area, in the evening. During the day the temperature is too hot while at night the temperature is very cold. Before I go out, I wear my waterproof uniform, to protect me from the black rain, acid and corrosive; I wear my helmet; my boots; put my gas mask and the oxygen tank. Every day, looking for someone, looking for something, looking for hope, maybe. Before this, however, I visit Laura’s grave.

Captain’s log, day 1.284 after the Apocalypse.

                            I could cry no more. My tears dried. I also don’t know how to pray any more. I think GOD forgot me. But, before, human beings forgot GOD. The loneliness is very sad. ROBINSON CRUSOE had better luck then me; he had FRIDAY. FOUR HORSEMEN AT THE APOCALYPSE galloped over humanity. HUNGER, PEST, WAR and DEATH. Terrible, implacable, merciless.

Captain’s log, day 1.300 after the Apocalypse.

                            I would like to wake up of this nightmare! If we could go back to the past, we could modify the present. I would like to delete the past! Bad luck! We lost everything. But I didn’t lose my humanity. I am a man. The last man. Writing my memoirs for the future generations. Rats and cockroaches will inherit the Earth. Rats and cockroaches will read my diary in the future.

Captain’s log, day 1.303 after the Apocalypse.

                            This isn’t the Land of Oz. But, every day I go out of my shelter. I insist; I’m looking for. I’m looking for what?! I confess: I don’t know! But I insist. The wind blow; I listen a distant sad groan. The red ground, burnt. The ghost cities in front of me… And I’m looking for, and looking for and looking for…

                            I am not GUIMARÃES ROSA or JOYCE, but I love neologisms.

                            Nonothing.