Old Mrs. Gaea has a clock in her living room.
The hands don’t move.
She never really moves either.
She just sits in her chair and looks out the window.
There are flowers everywhere, on the ceiling and the walls and all across the floor.
The living room looks like a jungle.
I asked her if I could live here forever once.
She said nothing lasts forever.
The hands on the clock started moving today.
Mrs. Gaea told me this would happen.
I tried to tell the adults, but no one believes me.
Yesterday our neighbor’s house caught on fire.
All the trees burned down.
My friend’s house flooded a week ago.
They had to leave.
How can everything be flooding and burning at the same time?
Nothing makes sense anymore.
Mrs. Gaea is looking at me.
“You’re my last hope,” she’s saying, “you’ll know what to do.”
I’m only 10 years old.
How am I supposed to know what to do?
It’s getting darker.
The smoke is getting thicker.
I can barely see the paper.
I only have 30 minutes until the clock strikes.
I just wanted to see the flowers.