In Eras
by Yuma Carpenter-New
I said I am most comfortable when I am describing a map that I have stitched
together in a quiet room. These maps vary in quality and in scale but are all
representatives of the eras that I have seen pass:
The first era is that of the Kingdom. The map is beautiful; like topography, it juts
into the present air with royal vigor. In this representation of the Kingdom, I
see the Palace, and its majesty makes me sweat. I run my finger along the spine of
its infrastructure.
Then comes the Era of Metal. Surprisingly, on the map, the tin shines brightest.
The map covers the largest distance of all the maps, stretching greater than a
mile. I must keep it away from the window as the reflection off the metals can
blind. About the era, one said it is beautiful to die in a bright flame.
The next map is quite small and remains on display in the entry way. It is
intricately carved from balsa wood and represents an era spent at sea. Balsa wood
is the lightest wood and is emblematic of an era of landlessness. I sculpted with
great prudency each moment of wave from the era. From the years of results, I
then produced a single, universal wave from the balsa that encapsulated the
motion of a thousand years.
Then comes my era. The map for the age is particular and the surface is covered
in dust. I do not like my era where I can see it, so I keep it hidden in the pantry by
the door. I have taken it out only four times in order to perfect it. Now I wait until
the era passes, speaking of my maps to the people that I meet.