The Purple Cloud: Someone Else Was Here

An impossible visitor

The last man on Earth found a footprint that was not his.

Before the silence

Twenty-one years earlier, Adam had returned from the polar ice to silence. A poisonous purple cloud had passed ahead of him.

Something that answered

He searched until searching became unbearable. Then he began burning the empty cities. At least fire answered when he spoke.

After the rain

Five days after he burned Constantinople, rain softened the ash. The footprint was fresh. Someone had crossed this courtyard since.

Behind the wall

A laugh came from behind the wall. Adam gripped his matchbox. For years, he had heard people who were not there.

A second person

An adult woman stepped into the doorway. She watched his hands before she looked at his face.

What the fire opened

She led him beneath the palace. Above them, daylight poured through a hole his fire had broken in the ceiling.

The world below

She showed him the stores that had kept her alive. Beside the date boxes lay her mother’s bones.

His terrible mistake

He understood: she had grown up beneath the palace. His fire had opened her prison. It could just as easily have buried her.

An offered date

She opened a box of dates and began to eat. Adam waited at the edge of the light. She had not invited him closer.

Empty hands

Adam tipped his matches into a puddle. Then he waited. She owed him nothing, not even a place beside her.

A smaller throne

She pushed the box toward him. He sat where she had made room. Between them lay enough food for two.

Room to choose

When she climbed toward the light, he followed. At the broken doorway, he moved aside and let her choose the way.

Room for two

Two sets of footprints crossed the ash. Neither set erased the other.