I don’t remember when I first heard this, or who said it even, but do you remember the old saying, “It’s not about the destination, but the journey.” I always liked that quote. Whoever came up with it must’ve been a philosopher in deep thought. In a way, it’s symbolic to whom I am currently, and what I’ve been doing on this rock for so, so long now.

Oh! Sorry, I think this is the first time we’ve met, and I don’t even know who you are. What’s your name?

…

Ok. Well, my name is… is… I’m sorry, I don’t remember. You must know, after trodding on this barren landscape of a rock for so, so long you start to forget things you shouldn’t forget. Name, age, destination, the usual. But, what I do remember, the things I saw, the places I’ve been to, they were epic as one might say. I saw mountains cut in half, rivers dried of all their contents, and wrecked boxes of clay and shale collapsed from the initial blast that happened so long ago. Sand, heated up to the purest of glass, was everywhere, and any tree that was left standing was turned into the blackest of charcoal. Though not everything was destroyed that day, as I have my very own collection of artifacts that I’ve come across over time. You may recognize some of them… hopefully.

Firstly, this… thing. I don’t know what it is. It could’ve been a plastic doll. Perhaps a dress up doll for a young girl obsessed with glitter and the color pink. Or an army figure, capable of holding small plastic rifles and bazookas, all for a small boy’s delight. Or it might’ve been a fully dressed, colorful smiling clown for an infant to laugh and play with, gotten as a toy from two loving parents. Perhaps it could’ve been a bunch of smaller toys that melted together and formed this lump of plastic, who knows? After all, it also could’ve been used to make holding bags designed to carry goods, or used to suffocate their subjects. Or waste thrown away in a dump, waiting for something to come along and get stuck in its many confusing holes, forever trapped in a tangle of sharp polymer.

Moving on. Let’s see here, what else do I have… ah! Yes, here we go. This is probably my favorite piece out of everything I have. It’s a piece of cloth. Yes, you heard that correctly, a piece of cloth. Fabric. Fascinating right? Usually, anything that was once wearable is now shredded into tiniest fibers or burnt to nothing, but somehow, this piece of fabric survived. Granted, I couldn’t find the rest of the clothing, but hey, at least it can fit the palm of my hand, so that’s something. I sometimes like to think it belonged to a man dressed in swanky, dapper suit, or a woman in formal attire. Perhaps it belonged to an old beggar, waiting for their next meal to come. But what part of the body did this piece cover? His chest, or her back? Maybe the knees, or the bottom of a foot. The back of their head is always an option, or it could’ve been used as a cleaning rag or makeshift purse for all we know. Whatever it originally came from, the item must be very glad it survived not only the destruction of everything on this rock, but the time from then to now.

Let’s see here… I have a card of some sort. I think it might’ve been used for purchasing more artifacts, most of which are forgotten about now. I never understood their way of using such things though, that whole mess is out of my reach. There appears to be lettering on the front and back. If you’re able to, could you read to me what they say?

…

Well ok then, I’ll just try to make it out myself then. There are sixteen letters on the front. Uh… well, they look very important. There are some smaller letters at the bottom as well, but I still can’t comprehend what they say. Then the back has the letters that are on the front but reversed, or maybe this is how they're meant to be read, I don’t know. Also, on top there’s a white line and black line as well. Are you sure you can’t read this?

…

Ok… well I’ll stop harassing you now. Maybe you can teach me the human language some day.

Oh! Give me a moment, there’s one more thing I wanted to show you… but I first need to find it. Uh… no. No. Where did I get this thing again? No… no. Ah! Here we are, it may not be fabric, but it’s something just as fascinating. It’s a bone, small and cracked in two, but a bone nonetheless. I think it came from a smaller animal, but I could be wrong. The story of how I found it is funny though, I chuckle when I think about it.

So it happened a while ago, don’t know how long though. I was walking the wasteland, minding my own business, until I found a collapsed box in the middle of nowhere. I thought to myself “Well look at that, I haven’t seen any of you in a while.” The cube itself wasn’t too big, only enough to fit a small pack of grown humans. It wasn’t the easiest to navigate the building though, fairly challenging to say the least. I had to move the smaller blocks that used to make up the bigger block out of the way just to get through an opening. When I got inside, it was vastly different to the outside. Strangely, some walls were still up straight and the floor was almost clean, I’ll be it a couple of cracks and a flipped table, but clean. However, I was met with a sight I found quite humorous.

I saw shadows. Shadows, left by the blast. I would’ve thought nothing was left behind, but no, shadows of organic shapes were burnt on the walls. A figure, in the shape of a human, was bending down to pick something up. I think it was a smaller animal, don’t know what it was though, maybe a pet of some sorts? There was another shape, much like the other, but they were in a pose that looked frantic. They seemed to be facing towards the other figure, running. When I first saw this, I made a little cackle, it was something I’ve only ever seen once. Well, not animated, though. The last time I saw an animated shadow was when I was still trapped underground by… them. Anyways, I thought this sight was something to be astounded by! However, when I looked closer at the thing the first figure was trying to pick up, I noticed the bone. It was just sitting there. I thought, “This is brilliant!” And now, this bone is forever mine, giving me a souvenir to the last, but hopefully not the final, time I found humor. Isn’t that fascinating friend?

…

It’s so lonely.