This is a story of ages ago, when man was stepping out of his comfort zone. Out in the world. The world his father built for him. For him to live and love.
Science was a fickle thing even then, but it was still magic. Man was astounded by science. Faith wasn’t as important as science anymore. He was happy. He was intelligent. Smart. Resourceful. With science holding his pinky finger, he progressed.
This is a story of ages ago, when one man, one seer, looked beyond the magic of chemicals. He looked beyond science, beyond faith, beyond many more years to come. And he was terrified.
For the next many years to come, he ran around, yelling, complaining, explaining and trying to save man from his ‘imminent end’. People thought him crazy, they thought he’d had a little too much of the magic of chemicals. They ignored, carried on with their work.
The man, the seer, lived alone, shunned by society. He was enraged, but still worried. And he continued to warn people for next few centuries.
Now, he sits in some corner of some dirty street, his clothes battered and dirt-covered, next to a massive pile of garbage by the shore of some supposed river filled with chemicals to the brim, so much so that there is a good chance of the fishes walking out of the water all over again, just to escape the chemicals. The industries on the other side of the river emit giant balls of black smoke that reach far up in the sky and disappear slowly. But the seer knows better. They aren’t gone.
As he sees death around him, the toll increasing as man still blindly goes ahead with his ‘progress’, he hugs himself, rocking back and forth slowly with a sad smile on his face, whispering one thing over and over.
“They should’ve listened to me. They should’ve. I knew it. They should’ve.”