Aria of the Whales

The silence of the place was terrifying. The stillness pregnant with hesitations and the ghosts of regret. The buildings were crumbling into the cacophony of merging earth and ocean. The devastation, the detritus of former existence, lay across the land like a tattered dress. Everywhere you looked there was evidence of the destructive loves of mankind.

In the midst of the deterioration arose an aria. It crashed into the silence, careening through the airless space, shattering the stillness. It reverberated through the emptiness, emitted from the throats of the whales.

They flowed through the remains of civilization, the melody rising above the wreckage of humanity's silence. Their skin glowed, the veins of circuitry pulsing just beneath their ivory chassis. The matriarch drifted ahead, the waves dispelled by her bulk destroying another part of the forgotten cities below. Her calves swimming in time with the pulsing waves.

Their song rose higher and higher into the dome of sky; cracking the ceiling of stars with it's intensity. The pod seemed to dance through this Atlantis, this forsaken piece of the modern world. Their chassis glittered in the radioactive moonlight, arcing rainbows across the wasteland.

The tangled jungle of skyscrapers swayed with the tide their passing. They rose and fell in tandem with the invisible waves. The abandoned streets below echoed with each fallen construct. The lullaby of the whales answered from the flotsam below, stretching into the darkness.

With each passing season, the whales made their pilgrimage through the cities. Marring the architecture and obliterating a piece of history with every excursion. The songs and the circuitry slowly decaying with each voyage. The metropolitan casually becoming a cemetery, a monument to ivory chassis and glittering circuits.

They fell slowly, as if gravity could not bear the death. One by one, they collapsed into the abyss of the modern world, broken machines in a broken city. Their songs were ceaseless notes repeating through the haze of the apocalypse. They lingered for years, long after the last of the whales broke down, haunting the abandoned landscape.

In the darkness of the cracked sky, the ghosts of their chorus played on loop in the emptiness of the radioactive city.