The Seed Keepers' Last Harvest

Elena straightened the seed packets in the glass cabinet. Her breath fogged the glass, but the cold kept it from clearing.

The iron kettle sat empty on the stove. It had been empty for weeks.

Dmitri shuffled beside her, his steps slower than yesterday. His fingers trembled as he held a folder of rice varieties.

"Continue your rounds," he said, voice frayed. His eyes locked on hers, begging her to obey.

She hesitated. Her thumb rubbed her index finger, a nervous habit.

The ice on the windowpanes shimmered like shattered diamonds. Bombs had cracked the glass long ago.

She turned back to the cabinets. The scent of desiccated plants mixed with hunger.

Dmitri staggered. His grip on the folder loosened. The papers fluttered to the floor.

He caught himself against the cabinet. His breath came in shallow gasps.

"Stay," she said, reaching for him. Her voice cracked on the last word.

He waved her off. "The seeds—" His voice failed.

She knelt to pick up the papers. Her hands shook as she gathered them.

Dmitri collapsed into his chair. His body sagged like a broken branch.

She placed the folder on his lap. Her eyes met his.

"Rest," she said. Her voice was steady.

He nodded. His eyes closed.

She turned back to the cabinets. The cold bit deeper into her bones.

Her thumb brushed her index finger. She couldn’t stop.

The kettle remained empty. Always.

The seeds waited. And so did she.

The silence was thick with unspoken words.

The ice on the windowpanes glittered like a frozen sea.

She moved on. The work never ended.

The seeds needed her.

The world would need them.

One day.

She didn’t know if she’d be here.

But she would try.

Always.

The empty kettle hissed in the silence.

A sound like a scream.

Or a promise.

She didn’t stop moving.

The seeds required careful cultivation.

And she would give them her life.

If it came to that.

It probably would.

But she would give it.

Without hesitation.

Without regret.

The cold never let up.

Neither did she.

The kettle remained empty.

And so did the world outside.

But the seeds waited.

And she would be there.