I look over the small field at him, the one we found several months ago rife with edible tubers. We will have to move soon, because they are mostly gone. Winter is coming again. We will need better shelter.
"Oh! and this is my partner, Canada," I say, turning to introduce Eric to the climber I've been chatting with. Eric leans in with characteristic enthusiasm. He pumps the extended hand of my new friend whose face is quizzical.
The number of climbing Erics in Tucson, Arizona gave rise to this particular nickname. Canada Eric holds enviable dual-citizen status. Every summer, he enjoys a bit of snow-birding, heading back up to his namesake Motherland.
"When No One's Left," out last month in Reckoning Magazine, originated while watching bad sci-fi with Canada.
Afterward, we did what we always do—snuggled into bed discussing the darker parts of what it means to be human.
We talked trajectories and fallouts, we chewed over the potential this species has to be better than it is. We wondered why we haven't risen to our potential. We asked whether, if the world gave us the choice, we would play god—or let the wheel keep turning and turning.
What would you do?