Upwards to the Clouds

After years of abuse, the oceans tired of how humans treated them. How we piled atop them islands of trash, funneled into them toxic rivers. They mourned the fish in them that died. Hundreds of vibrant species choked by our waste, our nets. Creatures lost to the murk and to our tables.

On the current, where all their waters meet, their voices join and debate what best to do.

"We cover this planet, Earth is ours, not these simians'!" The Pacific, the largest and most tainted of bodies, rages. Fresh in its mind are the whales washed up from its now noxious tide onto our shores and left to rot. Joyful dolphins who drown, trapped in our carelessly discarded garbage.

The Atlantic, the gentlest ocean, the most forgiving, preaches caution: "How can we fight these creatures? They care so little for life. So brief are their own souls, so volatile."

"What if we drown them, as they would drown themselves?" Suggests the Indian. Who, small and surrounded, feels most vulnerable to man's predation, "Let's melt the poles!"

The Pacific nods. Its waters crave blood. Its waves cry for vengeance.

The Atlantic shrinks in horror. "We are basins of life. What will we become if we sink to their level. We are no better, polluting ourselves with their deaths!"

Enter the Arctic, cold, ancient and wise. "Brothers, there is another way. Not of war, nor death."

 He speaks, and his compromise pleases all. They agree.

So it was. One day mankind woke to a dying Earth. One covered by deep, empty canyons lined with waste. One lost to desert.  One where the arid atmosphere throttles life from all the creatures that remain. The Oceans are gone, the rivers, lakes and reservoirs bare, with them fled the fish and water mammals. Gone with them are the creatures they held most dear.

So spoke the Arctic back when they convened: We are not murderers, we cannot kill man no matter what their sins. But neither can we idle as they drown us in their filth, blind to how they too drown themselves. There is only one other option…

And so it was that rain, returning by the gallon, fell back upwards to the clouds.