The Perfect City

It began with a thrumming which filled the air, somehow sounding everywhere all at once. Before the thrumming there had been silence, save for the wind and whatever it stirred; but now thrumming filled the air, for the first time in 365 days. It intensified, the very earth vibrating with the motion of it, now whirring and crescendoing to a grating pitch until it climaxed with a single pop!

A person appeared, blinking rapidly. They straightened their jacket and smoothed down their hair, then took in the scenery around them, and broke out into a smile of rapturous joy. This lucky soul, the first visitor, had arrived at one of the most scenic locations on the earth. Before their arrival no living human had lain their eyes on this place for months. They stood perched on the southern slope of a great mountain, along a marble-paved road which twisted upward behind them. The mountain was verdant and unmarred by human touch, delimited to the east and west by its sister mountains. The dark green conifers which spanned the entire range were outlined against a vibrant blue sky, speckled with milky clouds.  

Pop!

The lone visitor was followed by another, who greeted them.

Pop! Pop! 

More followed, until the popping was all one could hear. Flocks of crossbills took to the skies and beasts of the forest scampered down the valley slope as a human horde popped into existence along the road. Thousands upon thousands came throughout the day, each blinking rapidly and grooming themselves before scampering up the road, each eager to see and do as much as they could. This was, after all, their playground. None of these people had died, but they arrived at the closest anyone could imagine of heaven on earth. The Perfect City. They were entitled to their privilege. 

Neat, manicured shrubs lined the road, punctuated at even intervals by tall mulberry trees. Children snapped off low-hanging branches from these trees to use them to strike at each other, and high-pitched laughter rang out among the tumult of conversation. The road meandered towards the City at a gentle incline, adjoined by numerous other roads, smaller but no less magnificent, which led to the outer pockets of suburbia. Many people were tempted aside even this early in the journey, enamored with the shining brilliance of the steel and glass mansions which hung delicately on the precipice of the slope, hidden among the foliage. Some chose to spend the entire day walking through those opulent houses, stitched together with others of its like in orderly streets where gardens bloomed. They ransacked cupboards and dirtied fresh beds and when they finally left, the front doors remained open. 

Others were not content until they reached the beginnings of the city proper, where government buildings, educational institutions and community centers offered a glimpse of what it would be like to utilise those mundane resources in a perfect world. Like the houses, some were tall and made of metal and glass, their very form an architectural feat; others were squat but magnificent, carved of different coloured stone. Each complemented the other, and the beauty of the forest surrounds, without detracting from it. Despite the extensive gardens and parks which allowed the forest to infiltrate the heart of the city, the streets remained clear, and the buildings untarnished. Until, that is, the human horde passed through, leaving plastic bottles and wrappers beside overflowing bins.

The people did pass through eventually, as the evening drew near. The thrumming returned ever so gently, stirring an outcry of protestation from the people. Most returned to the bottom of the road but some tried to hide in the buildings or the houses, to seek shelter in cellars or attics, and some even ran into the forest. Regardless of their choice, one by one they popped away, until there was only the thrumming, and then silence. 

The Perfect City basked in the light of the setting sun, and there was not a single human in sight.