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Under an arresting purple sunset, he was walking home. As he passed an overfilled dustbin something rattled inside. Inside the bin I mean, as he wasn’t troubled by rubbish. That was a familiar sight, and after all, it was just garbage.

The rattling intensified as he strolled on and suddenly he heard a loud pop. He glanced back but it was getting dark and he couldn’t discern anything. Not that he was interested.

In the coming days, others witnessed similar events but nobody looked twice. Until a person died, shattered by an explosive planted in a waste bin. Authorities investigated, journalists instigated. Soon another explosion claimed two fatalities.

The usual suspects were swiftly lined up: religious fanatics, anarchists, UFOs, Kevin Spacey, though religious extremists were promptly discarded as the bombs were detonating all over the world. Apparently hidden in aluminum cans. The public demanded security, but the authorities just shrugged: there was too much litter in the world, inconceivable to check all of it. A global phobia of rubbish bins and waste gathering points quickly took hold with an obvious outcome: since nobody threw trash in the bins rubbish was everywhere, thus providing more opportunities for the perpetrators to conceal their explosives.

And the hunt for these hidden villains received more and more backing but even the collective might and wit of the world’s authorities wasn’t enough to crack the case. Couldn’t even find a single lead. The blasts were so powerful that there was not much left to analyze. Those few particles that were found were unknown to modern science, nowhere in the world could they explain its origins. Or maybe they just classified it and started producing it on an industrial scale.

Some people asserted that at this rate the world will get rid of rubbish before every human explodes, but those pesky scientists killed all hope again pointing out that there is more than enough waste to obliterate the whole human race. Thrice, at least.

The explosions appeared totally accidental and the execution seemed distinctly primitive. CSI nerds studied a specific case and reached the conclusion that it wasn’t all that primitive after all, as an explosion annihilated two innocent passersby but a sapling on the other side of the detonation was unharmed. So it must have been a directional charge, a pretty exquisite one at that.

Sheepishly buried landfills started blowing up next, occasionally taking with them whole streets. The inquiry proved inconclusive regarding the size of the initial charge. Was it just a small can exploding or did the whole heap detonate? The sole certainty was that the landfills and a few unfortunate families disappeared.

Thousands of scenes were brought to the public eye day by day. A thug that just snatched a handbag from an old lady was blown off his getaway scooter, the bag landing gently on the pavement. Sadly the old lady was struck by a second explosion just as she was reaching for her bag. The heartwarming story of an elderly man walking his dog and being blasted to smithereens. Now the dog wouldn’t budge from the place where it’s owner disappeared. Lottery winner blown up as he was going home with his winnings. Enamored couples on honeymoon, blissful parents strolling home from the maternity ward, frolicking children on the beach, recently retired couple on their celebratory world cruise – nobody was safe. The terror was omnipresent.

Almost.

Steve didn’t know about it. He just arrived in the desolate hall at the front of the train station. Liked spending his nights there, usually was peaceful, without any other homeless people there so he could be alone with his misery. He was perfectly ignorant of the global crisis. Even if he had heard of the explosions he would have had a hard time believing it. For him garbage meant survival.

And this deserted hall meant shelter. It just started raining and a dry spot was appreciated. He would recall his childhood, gamboling in the deluge, skipping from puddle to puddle, looking up to the heavens enjoying the clean water streaming down his face. He definitely could have used a shower now, but wouldn’t dare to expose himself to this acid rain. He craved to get rid of the stink, not his skin.

As he was fashioning a bed out of some cardboards under the deafening rattle of the rain on the plastic roof he seemed to perceive a faint noise. Like a metal finger scraping a concrete surface. He peered around but couldn’t see anybody. Which was great, he would rather have slept then run from bullies. Then the breeze picked up suddenly. Peeped out from under his cardboard sheets. The place was littered with rubbish discarded by the scores of people pouring out from the station after another busy but surely productive day. And now. all this litter slowly started rising. The wind can be a persuasive master.

The delicate dance of floating disposable items was mesmerizing. As the wind got stronger the protected area in front of the station became the scene of a rubbish tornado. Items born out of human comfort having served their ephemeral role have turned into unlikely butterflies. Once read newspapers with yesterday’s news, fast food packages with their contents half munched, scarves that suddenly went out of fashion all joined in the frenzy. Empty plastic bags pulsated upwards like jellyfish. All moving round and round, whirling to the same beat, rising and descending weightlessly. From time to time a floating paper would step out of line and drift out from under the safety of the roof only to be ruthlessly rammed down by raindrops and unceremoniously washed down the drain. Sleepless disposable coffee cups and heavier metal cans did their best to engage and clumsily rolled around the pavement. All this repeating in a Moebius loop. Lightning peeped in and conscientiously a thunder made a cameo appearance in the distance too. The homeless guy felt like Toomai watching the elephants dance. Steve heard of this litter twirling dance but never believed it.

The cadence of the dance reminded him of a song: ♫Good things come who those who wait like an expiration date!♫ The expiration date has passed for all these items dancing here, they all performed their fleeting purpose and as far as most of humanity is concerned by fulfilling their temporary role they ceased to exist. Yet there was a whirlwind of single-use items just in this train station.

His cardboards were trembling with excitement to join in the sway. As he was holding on to his cardboards his plastic bag wriggled free and joined the frenzy. What a shame, there was still some glue left in it. Tomorrow just got blander.

Slowly the wind died down and the party got calmer. The rain stopped too and an eerie silence set in. Steve was struggling to keep his eyes open when he heard a lonely tin can rolling in the opposite corner. It was half crushed, maybe from the dance or maybe from the ungrateful human who slurped its contents. It could have been the breeze moving it with its last breath but it seemed to Steve that the can moved on its own accord. He suspected a magnet. The can stopped on a patch of dirt in the corner. Steve turned around to sleep but heard a crunching noise. Like someone was flattening the can. Quickly turned around to check if someone’s there only to see a perfectly good can upside down in the mud that exploded as soon as he laid eyes on it. The can and most of the trash in the corner disappeared along with a good portion of the pavement. There was dirt everywhere. 

Steve could hardly wait for dawn. Stayed at the train station all night. Kept a lookout for a journalist who penned a piece about him once and she offered him food from time to time after that. When he sighted the reporter he waved her down and explained to her what he saw. She wrote the article for the evening issue and it was picked up globally, though the dance was mostly left out as it was off-topic. Most people ridiculed Steve for what he saw, he was surely confused. He must be crazy; people don’t end up homeless for nothing. Some claimed he hallucinated the whole thing; flattened cans don’t just get whole again. A few people suggested maybe it was the planet retaliating. Others said sniffing glue is stimulating. If he did see it why didn’t he record it? In this day and age, you don’t just witness events. You either film it or you never saw it.

In the meantime, the so-called world leaders were having a convention. Called G something, don’t know why. They might have thought: “gee, we are so awesome”. They assembled from time to time to coordinate their bul…erm…, to adjust to the changing times and crusty activists and climate change warriors and millennials and whatnots that wouldn’t stay in line. And after spending a whole day indoors they went out for a stroll in the seven-star hotel’s exclusive roof terrace. They liked being out in nature even though they capitalized on it as much as they could. But that was just good business, nothing personal. One of them finished a Coke and crushed the can with his big hand; after all, they had to do their share of recycling too. Then just casually threw it on the ground. One of them must have made a clever comment because they all guffawed as they strode by.

When their forced laughter subdued they noticed a rattling noise from behind. Truth be told, the almighty leaders were rattled too as they glanced back only to see the flattened can upside down filling up with something from the ground and become whole again. They stood there perplexed for a second, then a flash of brilliant white light illuminated the garden roof and shattered the glass ceiling.

The grass was still there, but the suits were gone. Assuredly, Mother Earth or Father Earth if you will, was fighting back. And it didn’t matter if the mightiest suit or lowest slob disappeared in the process. We are all the same. A super-evolved vermin. With a puny fragile body.

Since I can’t compel you to stay as there are laws against it why don’t you do it on your own? Stick around and read more of my short stories. All of them are amazing. Well, most of them are. OK, honestly, some of them are. Why don’t you decide for yourself? Take a look around –> Here’s a map!

Or, if you’re really adventurous, get off the beaten track and read a random story!