[ TT ] Re-Imagine

Sharp lines jut from the concrete crust that blankets the Earth, an almost endless urban sprawl that grows more crowded by the day. The buildings encroach upon the territory of God as they grow higher and higher into the sky, filled with tenants and shops upon each floor. A haze that never dissipates fills the sky and clouds the lungs. Even the sun does not approach the eyes of man, turning its face away in shame of what they have created. The world survives only barely in this dark state and the citizens fare little better. 
 
 Each generation seems poorer than the last, their skin miscolored, their frames slim, and their systems compromised. Food is scarce, engineered in laboratories and fully mechanized farms. The water is filtered endlessly, a slowly depleting reservoir is all that remains for the half trillion inhabitants. Perpetual melancholy sets in at a young age. They seem to find no hope or dream worth achieving for the effort. A burden piled high by their willful neglect and failures of their ancestors weighs heavily upon their weak shoulders, breaking their backs as they resolve to resign to the current course. A downward spiral is their path, a speeding satellite their vehicle. The weight of the abyss that grows closer draws them in, bringing them closer to the end at a steadily increasing rate. 
 
 Even in a world such as this, there are exceptions to the rule. Blades of grass or thick roots the crack the manufactured stone. Hearts unwavered by the conditions, brilliant minds destined for greater things. These individuals, these dreamers, they fight uphill simply to see the view at the top. Whether another, larger hill lies in the shadow of the one that they summit matter little to them. Their goal is simply to reach that peak and see what lies behind, hoping that another of their uncharacteristic brethren will come along to carry the torch even further. These joyful fools are few and far between. They are as easily noticed as a young girl walking barefoot down the hectic streets. 
 
 A girl wielding an easel, a palette and a sleeve of brushes marches towards the high-rise. Her naked feet slap the concrete with every step as she ascends the dizzingly high staircase. She seems as a spartan prepared for war, her easel and canvas are a shield as her palette and brushes form the spear. With an unrelenting determination she climbs the stairs, ignoring the stares and jeers of the flowing crowd. The bustling noise of the city begins to fade along with the torrent of bodies as she drives higher into the heavens with pure purpose. Atop the highest point in the district, overlooking the vast majority of her town, she plants the easel firmly in the center. From her pockets emerge tubes of paint, half empty from use, which she squirts upon the palette. A rainbow of vivid hues, almost blindingly bright to her adjusted eyes fills the wooden crescent. 
 
 She draws a brush from the sleeve as a swordsman removes his blade from its sheath, a careful and practiced motion full of elegance and grace. With this soft blade she sweeps into the colors and drags it along the canvas. Her motions are fluid, recreating the background quickly with ease. As the portrait fills in, it becomes markedly clear that there is a difference in her sight and that of reality. Her sky is cobalt and white, a pristine and unending sky that lends its light to the surroundings. Her earth is cloaked in emerald and sapphire, a vibrant landscape full of life. Even the greyed buildings fall to her vibrant vision, their tops and sides hosting burgeoning gardens and artful topiaries. Each swipe of her brush reveals the potential of mankind, the future that could have been or still could be. With each broad stroke, she works toward the next summit in her own way. These paintings could one day be the guide by which we find our way out of the loop. For now, she paints the scene and returns home to hang the latest landscape on her walls. 
 
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