in movies slow motion brings the viewer’s attention to critical information in reality slow motion allows critical information to fade into the ether in movies your justice complex is admirable leads to the solution to a problem in reality your justice complex is a burden causes your ostracization in movies slow motion builds tension the viewer can’t look away in reality slow motion lacks urgency the viewer looks at their phone in movies your anxiety fuels a pursuit for knowledge brings community to the cause in reality your anxiety stops you at the threshold builds walls around you in movies a happy ending applause roars as you’re recognized for your efforts in reality there is none calved chunks of ice crowd the bow of your boat
Tag: Climate Change
The forest fire outside our house
I lie in bed and turn my head to see your face illuminated by the forest fire outside our house. I ask if you need anything at the store, since I plan on going after work tomorrow to get some bread and apples. You blink a few times, shake your head, say you’re not sure, too tired to think, but will tell me if you think of anything. I kiss you goodnight, tell my phone to close the curtains, block the growing light from the forest fire outside our house.
Asleep in a Campfire
The sun is orange, the sky a textureless grey. Haze. It’s hazy. ‘Haze’ is a kinder word than ‘smoke.’ What does a deep breath feel like? When was the last time you had one? The sun turns red, the sky a uniform pink. Tree line looks rubbed with a cheap eraser. Ash floats soft as snow. Will it bury you? Will you ever see light again? All is greyscale. Lay awake. Toss when you finally fall asleep. You may not wake up. Will smoke consume you? Will embers swallow you whole?
During a Heatwave
You step out into the yard, feel the heat’s weight descend on you. The grass is warm, dry between your toes. You think about how the only way for an individual to escape the effects of climate change is to add to it — a never-ending cycle that you may not live to see humanity escape. You check the weather app every five minutes to see if all of this is even real. You try to read a book on the couch, feel the heat seep in through a gap in the caulking of the window, fight the temptation to sleep. You try to think about cold things, because it worked for Gus in that one episode of Recess you watched as a kid; it does not work for you here. You imagine what you would do if the power went out, whether you would secure what cold you’ve collected inside, run away, or just lie down and wait for the sun to consume you. Ninety-three degrees in your apartment at 10 pm. You scramble to turn on and adjust every fan inside. You cannot find any air.
M. Espinosa 