Gaea’s Breath by Geneviève Laprise (Canada, 43)

Silence

          Humanity choked itself with its need to grow, simplify, and automate. The air filled with
acrid rain, polluting and stinging her exposed body. She suffered in silence, withering in agony,
trying to keep up with humanity’s quest to rule the planet. She tried so hard, sending out
warnings, but her body quaked, sending humanity’s buildings tumbling onto her back. Still, they
would not stop. Then, she retched scalding acid, it dripped down her bosom, and people fled
screaming. She coughed and choked, to no avail.

          Gaea sucked in a long, desperate breath. With it, nature retreated into her body and
disappeared. Her skin cracked, and her tears ran dry. The people moaned, sobbed and pleaded to
their gods, whispering apologies and empty promises if only Gaea would return nature’s spirit.
Their pleas were unanswered. Gaea was finally at peace. All that remained was her devastated
carcass. Humanity fell. The prayers ended, and silence, emptiness, and nothingness replaced the
cries and prayers.

Lonely, ear-splitting silence.

          Gaea exhaled and shifted. Her spirit returned, and her body healed. She wept, and oceans
came into being. Soon a coat of green covered the scars left by humanity upon her skin. She
smiled and laughed, releasing the spirits of the animals, insects and flora into her world. Wildlife
danced upon her skin, and the birds serenaded her with their melodies. Grass grew, flowers
blossomed, Gaea breathed, and birds took to the sky, basking in the glorious breeze. The last
sapling of the old world grew tall and healthy.

​          The music of life raised Gaea’s spirits and brought her hope. So she sang, creating warm,
gentle breezes and cascading waterfalls over the cliffs of her curves, but she missed them, the
people. Not those that had tried to suffocate and burn her. Not the ones that would steal her spirit
and that of nature. No, she would return the spirit of those from when she first took a breath.
Gaea remembered the song of the first babe’s cry. Soon something swelled within her womb,
and with a glorious thought, Gaea created them once more.




​​Geneviève is a Canadian writer who enjoys writing fiction, especially mythology and dark fiction. When she is not writing, she can be found reading or playing with her three children. She is also studying editing at a Canadian University.