Sugarcane

\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue ">She needs a name, I suppose.\n\n\tA woman like her probably has a name that rings out across the seven seas. It’s a name that sticks in the hearts and minds of men, rallies her crew to her side and announces her presence more than her long coat or her bright-red hair. On the calm, sunny days on these strange new oceans, you can find her with a foot planted on the gangrail, eyeglass in hand and perched with shoulders broad as she looks to the horizon. It’s in these brave new worlds that people like her thrive, someone who might have once been bound by useless shackles in a world before all was made water.\n\n\tThese are shackles long forgotten, but those who lashed the shackles still float in her mind no doubt. Iron may fade but pain and memory last all the longer, and though she leads her crew now aboard this ship called Kestrel, she does so under the shadow of something that once haunted her. That maybe once haunted all of them.\n\n\tWe’ll call her The Captain, if it so please you. One of many captains perhaps, and when we meet her old friend he too will technically be a captain as well. But neither he, nor any of the others, can earn the title of The Captain. That’s hers, and hers alone.\n\n\tShe’s earned it. After all these years.\n\n\tWe find her now in contemplation, not just looking through the eyeglass with the eye of a navigator but with that of a dreamer. Or a scholar, a philosopher, and another title that might not be ascribed to someone who serves aboard a ship. But aboard the Kestrel, these titles were secretly welcomed by her crew.\n\n\tHer first mate approaches her---she’s small. Spry. Clothes from a land far from the one she once knew and and dark eyes that struggle in the bright sunlight give her a look as unique as her captain’s, and in truth if you looked at the whole crew you’d find a sea of similar bright lights. The Captain drew those kind of people to her side--all unique, all strong, all together. And her first mate wishes to query what was on her Captain’s mind.\n\n\t“A dream,” she replies unsteadily. She does not like to discuss dreams. She hasn’t since before the flood. \n\n\t“What kind of dream?” The mate asks. “One of nightmares and horrors, memories from your past twisted into something strange and alien?”\n\n\t“No. Though I almost wish it had been one of those dreams.” She paused. “Almost.”\n\n\t“How do you usually deal with such dreams Captain?”\n\n\t“You ask a strange question.”\n\n\tThe first mate ponders her thought a little. “These dreams shake us Captain. If you ever go belowdecks at night, to the bunks where the crew sleep, you’ll hear them whimpering and crying things they’ll never admit to in the light of day. And…” She hesitates. “They may not know it, but I know these dreams do affect us. They weigh on us for the better part of a day, phantoms that remind us of thoughts we’d rather keep buried.”\n\n\tThe Captain waits patiently for her first mate to get to a point. Around them the crew guides the ship along, a stiff wind blowing them south by southwest---away from the last floating town they’d happened across, and forward to unknown and adventure. Finally the Mate speaks. “Captain, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you weighed down by such dreams.”\n\n\tThe Captain chuffs. “I know what you mean, and I know...why you think this of me.” She does not wish to fully explain.\n\n\tThe truth is she once spoke of dreams with someone. A specific someone from before the flood. Once dreams wracked and destroyed her, filled her with misery and loss and other horrors. With him, she learned to speak of them with…truth. She supposed. With honesty. And with him gone, she still found herself talking to him in her head. Usually the dreams the First Mate spoke of could be resolved in such a fashion.\n\tBut not this dream. In part because….it was so insignificant.\n\n\t“So a dream bothers you now, Captain?”\n\n\t“A strange one,” she admits. She struggles to find the place to begin. Her eyes track upward toward the mast, and happens to catch a glimpse of a seagull drifting amidst the rigging.\n\n\t“Imagine the gull, up above. And how it looks down on our ship. Now imagine if I, as Captain, could use the Gull’s eyes to look back down below and with my...knowledge, parce the ship out into different cabins and spaces.”\n\n\t“I would think we would be very small, Captain.”\n\n\t“Very small. But through the gull’s eyes, everything looks---different. And somehow that sight, all that knowledge of the Kestrel and her needs becomes second instinct to me. And I can command your movements with mere quick thoughts.”\n\n\tThe First Mate raises an eyebrow. “Now I wonder if this is in fact a dream and not some fantasy.”\n\n\tThe Captain laughs. Indeed, when she thinks of the dream abstractly, it is a nice fantasy. A nice way to propel the Kestrel and her crew through the sea. And herself, an entity disattached of all the strange necessities of human life. But her gaze furrows as she recalls the rest of the dream.\n\t“We travel from place to place. Point to point, you might say. And...Pallavi---” for that was the First Mate’s name. “We travelled not by sail, but by another fashion.”\n\n\tPallavi waits. As she always waits for her Captain’s wisdom. She remembers the days when everyone rushed and ordered and barked and demanded, when supplies were short and lives cheap. She’s thankful for days where patience can rule.\n\n\t“We travelled from star to star. From point to point, with some nebulous force in pursuit.” Almost by instinct the Captain turns to look aft to the ship, as though some craft might be in pursuit of them. “We raced through the stars...much as the way we race over water right now.”\n\n\tPallavi shrugs. “You dream of space---don’t we all? There was once a day when we thought we’d reach it, I think everyone of our generation happens to remember it in some fashion. Our children surely won’t.”\n\n\t“It’s not the stars that bothers me. It’s…” She thinks for a moment. How everything about the Kestrel’s existence seemed to be reduced to a series of grids and numbers. How each encounter with another ship felt like a simulation of her real life--lines of text defining barked conversations she’d had from bow to bow. \n\n\tIt bothers her because she can’t stand to see her life reduced to a game. How she’s come so far by living so heavily and breathing deeply, treating every cut and sore like it could be her last and planting herself so firmly in her present that her past can’t reach her. She speaks frequently about how she’s never sure she’s where she wants to be...but she’s sure as hell know she’s come so far away.\n\n\tShe wonders out there if there are captains who could live like that. Who could just step back and let their crew wander and exist so aimlessly. She lives for the moment, the drink, the cheer, the blow, the exhale. She doesn’t want her life to be taken back so far away.\n\n\tPerhaps that is why when the man in the crow’s nest shouts they are in sight of another ship, she decides they will take it by force. \n\n\n\tHe is a man locked up in armor. Not...literally, of course. That wouldn’t be practical to life aboard these wooden ships. But with his boots propped up upon his desk, his eyes narrowed at the first mate with his report, he remembers old fantasies of a mechanical arm and armor no different from flesh. It’s an old dream, a dream from a man who once felt the need to protect himself from a thousand blows. To dream in armor is to live in armor, essentially. It’s to shorten your breath and jump at the slightest sign of danger. To relax is to invite death, and to let oneself simply be natural is an existence one cannot comprehend. Even as casual as he is now, he still remembers those days.\n\n\tPerhaps he recalls them a little because the First Mate’s report is of a ship on the horizon, flying no true flag, bearing down on them with no hails or greetings of any kind over the squawkbox. Passingly, The Armored Man muses over the strange circumstances of their world. Flags need not be flown because there are no more nations to swear allegiance to, yet everyone somehow flies a flag of their own to show off some kind of tribal identity. Ships who fly no flags...are presumed to be pirates.\nThe Armored One sails aboard The Bastion, named for an old story he played once back in the old days. Careful though, traveler, if you ask him about that story he won’t shut up about it for several days, so for our purposes, we need to avoid engaging him in discussion on this point. \nHow fitting that a man who sees himself as a twisted knight tries to build walls around himself, however. \n\nHe rests now in a fine black coat with broad shoulders, a weathered black turban around his head, and a frustratingly short beard he long wished would just cover a little more of his face. A sabre rests on his hip and he tends to glare at you with ice blue eyes through spectacles he maintains with painstaking care. With so little glass in this new world, he knows his eyes are among his valuable tools, and he can’t afford to sacrifice them.\nHe gestures for the First Mate to continue. “It’s maybe a couple hours out sir. We’d try to outrun it but with our speed and supplies, we’d find ourselves stranded elsewhere in a matter of days.”\n\n“Faaantastic,” The Armored Man mutters. Every encounter on these rough seas has gone like this. A jump from one place to another with random surprises pitting them against ship after ship. He recalls an old game set in the stars that seemed much the same way. He vaguely remembers never beating that game.\n\nThe First Mate cocks his head. “Something on the mind sire?”\n\nThe Armored One sighs and shakes his head, rising from his desk. “Nothing that won’t keep Javik. Can we find any advantage over our new friends?”\n\n“Only our swords and pistols sire. But those make us no new friends on the high seas, I’m afraid.”\n\n\tThe Armored One stumps toward the door. “And you do propose making friends of them then.”\n\n\t“Aye sir. You seem to try and do it with every other ship we encounter.”\n\n\t“Against my better judgment Javik, against my better judgment.”\n\n\tThe First Mate cocks his head. He knows his captain, knows the strange morals he manages to keep in a land of scarce resources and short honor. He often wonders how a man who ignores the teachings of good and evil seems to so consistently flip the coin on the right side of each. This isn’t like him. “Sir, you feeling triptrap today?”\n\n\t“Triptrap. Funny word, where’d you pick that up?”\n\n\t“You’re dodging the question, sir.”\n\n\tThe Armored One grunts. In his mind he’s already toying with the notions and ideas around his companion’s vocabulary. In his old world new dialogue and slang slid in and out of culture in a matter of couple years, and with no sentinels to police the English Language it would fracture into multiple variations within 50 years or more, by his guess. He wonders if this is a good or bad thing.\n\n\tThose thoughts took place in the manner of seconds it took for him to formulate a compounded answer that lied and told the truth at the same time. “Just dreams, Javik. Dreams that plague you into the day.”\n\n\tHe speaks no more of these. Once he spoke of them to another. Now he just lets them sit inside. He knows it’s a kind of poison, but...well, he is the Armored One isn’t he?\n\n\tTogether the two men head abovedecks, somewhere over the state of Washington, and watch their new friend sail in.\n\n\n\tWhat happens next is an act of trust.\n\n\tYou’ve probably already guessed the simple twist, that these two know each other. Knew each other. Will know each other. Past, present and future tense are all relevant in the eyes of our two sailors. \n\n\tFor some reason these two are bound by a brief vision of their ships among the stars as well as the sea. Some passing reference subconsciously guiding their lives in that strange way a little moment from ten years ago can echo into your soul today. It’s an ingredient for who we are. Who you are. Who they are. \n\n\tAnd for some reason, our Armored friend recalls that vision all the more acutely as he stands atop the deck. And his mind...shifts, just a little.\n\n\tHe watches the other crew scramble about the deck, the sun blasting in his eyes to the advantage of these mysterious boarders. The ship is lean, and well-stocked, not like other scavengers that have lain into his crew in the last few months. \nHe considers his options, and shouts---\n\n‘Ready Rifles!’\n\n‘Who goes there?!’\n\n<b>Ready Rifles</b>\n\nHis crew draws their rifles---a well-supplied stock of military hardware pillaged from a gunship some time back. No one has yet matched them in raw firepower. He hates to use them.\n\nThe enemy crew was ready for this. Barricades are brought out, a woman silhouetted by the sun prowls the upper deck, staring at him. She must be The Captain. He realizes his coat and stance mark him separately from the rest of his men. He’s vulnerable.\n\n‘AIM!’\n\n‘Who goes there?!’\n\n<b>‘Aim’</b>\n\nThe crew aims their guns. He watches the Captain draw her pistol, and reaches for his own.\n\n‘FIRE!’\n\n *Who goes there?!’\n\n<b>‘Fire!’</b>\n\n[END SIMULATION]\n\n<b>‘Who Goes There?’</b>\n\nThe Armored One shouts this over the water, and The Captain cocks her head. \n\n‘I know that voice.’\n\n‘Weary travelers, in need of food and supplies! Specifically yours.’\n\n<b>‘I Know That Voice’</b>\n\nThe Captain grabs her eyeglass and swings it over the water. She knows that voice, she knows that face. Palavi stands at the ready. “Shall I give the order?”\n\n‘No’\n\n‘Yes’\n\n<b>‘No.’</b>\n\nThe Captain says nothing for a moment, then lowers her spyglass. “Tell the crew to stand down. Send a messenger over with a white flag and negotiate for supplies.’\n\n“Captain?”\n\nShe says nothing. She doesn’t want to see him. But she doesn’t want to kill him either. Things are too different now. \n\nThe Captain heads belowdecks, and doesn’t emerge for 3 days.\n\n[END SIMULATION]\n\n<b>‘Yes’</b>\n\nSurvival on the sea matters most. The Captain knows this. She can afford no alliances, not with a crew as ragtag as hers. They must take, they must live, they must move, they must survive. \n\nThe Captain nods. Palavi swings her hand and the crew tosses boarding claws over the side, grappling the far ship. Across the seas, The Armored One stumbles in surprise. \n\n“Your orders sir!”\n\n *Fire!*\n\n“Stand your ground!”\n\n<b>‘Stand Your Ground’</b>\n\nThe Armored One grits his teeth and jumps to the main deck, drawing his pistol. “Hold until they open fire!” Too much blood on the seas would bring no peace or hope to where this world needed to go. He couldn’t move rashly.\n\nHe keeps his eye on the far deck, when he gets a look at their Captain and freezes. He recognizes her instantly. Her face has flickered in his memory for years. She locks eyes with him, and doesn’t flinch.\n\nThe boat draws closer.\n\n‘Stand down!’\n\n‘OPEN FIRE!’\n\n‘SAM!’\n\n<b>‘SAM!’</b>\n\nThe Captain freezes. Across the water, The Armored One makes eye contact. She hesitates---\n\nThen a sailor aboard his ship opens fire. She reacts instantly. \n\nThey take the boat.\n\n[End Simulation]\n\n‘STAND DOWN!’\n\nThe Armored One holsters his pistol and waves frantically at his men. ‘STAND DOWN!’ He roars. They look around in confusion. He panics, and moves to the front of the line, his arms wide and empty. He can’t risk bloodshed. Not here, not now. \n\nThe ship nears theirs, and The Captain’s crew surges past him and over their ship, holding their fire, but backing The Armored One’s crew into a corner. They shout in anguish, but he just closes his eyes.\n\nHe hopes his heart is in the right place. It hasn’t been for so long.\n\n *Open Eyes*\n\n *Keep Eyes Closed*\n\n<b>*Open Eyes*</b>\n\nHe tries to open his eyes, but his heart races too fast.\n\n *Keep Eyes Closed*\n\n<b>*Keep Eyes Closed*</b>\n\nHe hears the opposing crew move all around them. They examine the supplies, admire the guns, and taunt his crew. He can only wait.\n\nThen, the thumping of boots. A silence in the voices. Someone stands right in front of him.\n\nThe Captain stands silent, looking at her old...friend.\n\nShe sees him shaking. She knows why.\n\n‘Jagmohan.’\n\n *say nothing*\n\n<b>‘Jagmohan’</b>\n\nThe Armored One opens his eyes. And for the first time, in spite of a thousand odds, they look at each other for the first time.\n\n<b> *say nothing*</b>\n\nThe Captain walks past her old friend and tries to ignore how The Captain’s starting to shake. \n\nShe pauses, then examines his ship. Wonders where he’s been. Wonders what he’s seen. Wonders how close they’ve passed these last few years.\n\n‘Say nothing’\n\n‘Say everything’\n\n<b> *Say nothing*</b>\n\n‘Take only what we need.’ \n\nLeave their weapons.’ \n\n[End Simulation]\n\n<b>*Say everything*</b>\n\n…..\n\n[End Simulation]</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n\n

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">There she stands, in an arched doorway, tank top riding up to expose a belly button, arm bent over her head in a fucked-up halo. Slight smile to match a look in her eyes, a look that betrayed mischievous ulterior motives. This is my favourite memory of her. It wasn't the first time we met, or the last time, it was just one time, like every other time we shared together.\n\nShe was, utterly, unlike anybody else. Ethereal doesn't quite cut it, because she could pack a punch that was heavier and more solid than cinderblocks. Not physically, of course. The fear of physicality kept her contained, limbs always folded in on each other like an ashamed marionette trying to hide her strings. But with her words, wow, her words could destroy cities. Breath like insidious fumes that could seep into your pores, contaminating your blood and rewiring your veins and thoughts from within. She was a force, that's for sure.\n\nWhy did nobody else see her this way? (And no, I shall not compare you to a summer's day.)\n\nWhen did I meet her? I must have been sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, some version of "teen" that was too young for how old I felt. Already bone-tired, eyes already heavy, words already laced with whiskey and disdain. This is what I call my "bad times" or the times Before I Got My Shit Together. Every night spent in a house in a "bad" area, with "bad" people, doing "bad" things. The walls were yellowed from smoke, the couches were stained with spilt bong water, spilt beer, spilt cum, spilt Pepsi drank straight from the 2L bottle.\n\nI know what you're thinking. She didn't save me. \n\nShe didn't ruin me, either.\n\nShe just was.\n\nI don't tell anybody about this time. Usually, these memories are clouded over with other memories, the really bad stuff. No scare quotes there. There's no way to be tongue-in-cheek about that one. So I don't come here often. I save her, this memory, for the really awful times. For the 3 a.m.s with no sleep; the train rides home from work after being stepped on and squashed by work and life, like the ants that trail in the bathroom; the I Can't Fucking Take This Anymore Times. That's when I need her the most.\n\nRemember, she's not my saviour. These memories don't save me, redeem me, or make me a better person in any way. They are just safe. A quiet corner to retreat to. Blankets to crawl under.\n\nFor all her complexity and enormity and thunderous capability, she was simple. And I loved her. And it was all simple.\n\nThis memory, she stands there. Slowly lets her arm fall back, stretches out the kinks in it, as if she's unravelling each bone at a time. \n\n"You look tired today, Lily" she says. She always says this.\n\n"I am," I say back. As I watch my memory, I mouth the words. I am I am I am I am I am I am\n\nThe others haven't come yet, so it's just me and her. The rest are out getting pizza, chips, popcorn, and video games from the movie rental store around the corner. Next to the building with the engravings of cows' heads (I think it used to be a dairy processing plant). So we sit on the couch, a deep kiss that would be ravenous if I could lift my limbs, but it always feels as if my blood was replaced with cement, and if only I could be Snow White (I was never the Pretty Girl, so being a Disney princess was more than I could ever hope for) and her kiss could revive me, but this isn't a fairy tale, and she doesn't save me, and we kiss, and then my head rests on the back of the couch.\n\nAnd that's it. The others come back shortly after, and we separate. She goes to sit on the arm of the chair across the room, and I remain where I am, my head resting on the couch.\n\nI replay the memory over and over.\n\n"You look tired today, Lily."\n\nI am I am I am I am I am I am </font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n

You squeeze her hand. You tell her you'll stay. She cries tears of relief.\n\nYou spend four years together in the mansion in Salem. You have your own room, filled with your own books. After taking an interest in van Gogh, you slowly teach yourself how to paint. You and Adrienne grow close. You share stories. You tell her of the dreams that you have: of the man trying to find love after his divorce; of two youngsters sneaking around the city in the middle of night, slowly falling for one another; of wounded people trying to understand themselves in the 11th hour.\n\nShe writes them down in a book. You ask her if it's going to be published. She laughs, says no, these are for you, Naomi. Just you. \n\nAdrienne never forgets her wounds. Sometimes she weeps openly. You let her tell you her stories. You offer her words of condolences. You make her tea. You distract her with your stories. You tell her that you're there for her.\n\nAdrienne begins to reconnect with old friends. Every other month there's a party at the mansion. She treats you as a friend, not something to show off to the party guests. You talk politics and art with the guests. Whenever one asks how you can speak now, Adrienne explains "software upgrades." Dennis knows this a lie, but he never brings it up, especially since you're the only worthy chess opponent he has.\n\nYou enjoy the comfort of this life, though you often feel a yearning to leave the the mansion behind. You don't have long to wait. The four years pass at a clip and you get up one morning to discover Adrienne on the floor, still and cold.\n\nYou spend the morning staring at her body, stunned by the sudden passing of your friend. You hope that she has found peace.\n\nAs you're an android without rights to property or inheritnance, the mansion will not pass in your hands, nor will Adrienne's fortune. Instead, she's left you with a sizable amount of money in a seperate bank account and a fake human ID purchased for an exorbitant price.\n\nYou pack a bag with your clothes and call Dennis.\n\n"Yes?"\n\n1. [["She's gone Dennis, and so am I."]]\n\n\n\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">She awoke. It was love, definitely love. She knew it, and she was sure the life growing inside her knew it. A different kind of love to anything she'd felt before. Purer, somehow. Hopeful. \n\nShe carried the life, fed it and nurtured it and kept it safe. It grew and grew until it became a she, and a name soon followed; Kenna. \n\nShe carried Kenna, carried her for months, and when she was too big to carry she let her go, and her daughter was born, and she awoke once more and it was love, definitely love, stronger than it ever had been, and as she held Kenna tight in that hospital bed, the numbness creeping over her, she whispered sorry little one, I love you, I'm sorry.\n\nShe left her daughter then, left her behind in that hospital bed, under the care of the doctors and nurses, and she ran. She ran, and ran, and ran, and found herself on a station platform. She took the ticket out of her pocket, and smiled at her destination. She'd had the foresight to ship her luggage ahead of her; a huge bag amongst a pile of other huge bags, black as night, waiting for the porter who sat in his office, drinking a coffee. \n\nA man stood to her left and a woman to her right. They seemed comforting, barely, and she felt love for them too. The man, with his clipped British tones and quips about history. The woman, with her modern cynicism and a wry sense of humor and a somewhat familiar structure to her skull. \n\nThey waited and watched the tracks, shivering together in the sudden snowfall, staring down, waiting for the light of the train that was coming for them. The whistle sounded. The porter emerged, and he was an old friend. \n\nThe train pulled in. She watched as the porter loaded up her bag, as the man and the other woman boarded the train. She shook the porter's hand and accepted his help in climbing the stairs. She checked her ticket, found her carriage, her cabin number, walked down the silent carpeted floors as the train's engine started and the carts shunted forward with a hiss. She passed a photograph, framed on the wall, and the woman sitting there looked just like her.\n\nTickets please, the conductor said, his accent thick and unfamiliar. She reached into her purse and removed the slip, handing it to the kindly man, who regarded it for a second, smiled, then clipped the paper with a hollow snap. \n\nBy the time she reached her destination, she was hollow. </font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>

You make your way back to the shuttle stop. A woman is sitting on the bench with a young boy, chastising him for getting food on his shirt. \n\nThe shuttle is late, arriving four minutes after its scheduled stop.\n\nThe doors open. It's the same driver from before, his belly pushing against the steering wheel as he eats a chocolate candy bar.\n\n"Would it kill you to be punctual, Bill?" the woman says, stepping onto the shuttle, pulling the child along by the hand.\n\n"Nice to see you too Jen," he says.\n\nYou hold on to a railing near the front of the shuttle. It's only you, the driver, and the woman and her child. Rays of light shine through the windows of the shuttle as it propels itself down the road, stopping every so often to let people on or off the shuttle. No one boards. The woman and her boy don't get off until the stop before yours. \n\n"Grumpy bitch," the driver mutters as the door shuts behind them. He briefly looks up at you in the rearview mirror before turning his gaze back to the road. He flips on the radio and sings along to a catchy song in a deep, gravelly baritone.\n\nSoon you're back in Adrienne's neighborhood. You get off and walk from the stop to the mansion, dress package in your [[hands]]. Once inside you proceed upstairs to Adrienne's office. She's at her computer, trying to read something on the screen with her glasses. She glances up at you.\n\n"Oh you're back. Let me see the tablet."\n\nYou hand it to her. She drags her finger across the screen, nodding her head. \n\n"Good work. Why don't you go get some sleep? I need you in working order this week so you can make sure everything's tidy for the party. Go on."\n\n1. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"I don't want to go to sleep. It's still light out."''@@<<becomes>>=="I don't want to go to sleep. It's still light out."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"Aren't you curious how I look in my dress?"''@@<<becomes>>=="Aren't you curious how I look in my dress?"==<<endhoverreplace>>\n3. [[Return to the closet and sleep.]]\n\n\n

"This...this is the first thing I've done in a long time that I can feel good about. Now go. Pack light. And make sure you cover that serial number with something. A bandaid, perhaps."\n\nYou do as she says, packing a bookbag with some books from the library: <i>American Gods</i>, <i>Ada</i>, <i>The Crying of Lot 49</i>, <i>Oryx and Crake</i>--whatever you can get your hands on the quickest.\n\nAdrienne is waiting for you in the foyer. You approach.\n\n"I'm sorry it has to be this way," she says, "but I understand."\n\n1. [["For what it's worth: I'm sorry too."]]\n\n\n

"Right. Well, she was complex, capable of manual labor, intellectual discussions, simulated empathy. She could tell when I was upset, and she would try and talk to me about it. I wouldn't let her in. I'd deflect; we'd talk about <i>The Great Gatsby</i> or Emily Dickinson. Anything. It took a year but I finally started discussing Julia and Richard with her."\n\nShe falls silent.\n\n1.[["And?"]]

"São Paulo, eh? It's a nice place. A bit chilly but lovely to look at. They say the one on earth had birds. Enjoy your flight ma'am."\n\nYou proceed through the spaceport with your backpack. It's a crowded place filled with families returning from vacation and young men and women on pilgrimages. The metal detectors don't go off when you go through them.\n\nYou find your gate. The ticket woman calls you before you can even sit down. She checks your ticket and you pass through the gate. The ship itself is small and cozy. You find your seat and sit near the window. You peer out to ook at the runway.\n\n"We'll be lifting off in five minutes," the attendant announces over the PA. "I would ask that everyone find their seats and get buckled in."\n\nYou unsnap the bag by your feet and pull out the book that Adrienne wrote. You open to the first page, a dream about an older man in a country he hates. It is a sad story, but you're drawn to those.\n\nBeneath you, you feel the shuttle move as it wheels out to the runway.\n\nThe attendant says something else on the PA, but her words are lost to you now. You're looking out the window again, silently telling the only world you've ever known farewell as the spacecraft tears down the runway and shoots upward, pierecing cloud, sky, and atmosphere until you and the rest of the passengers have finally reached the cold, black expanse of space.\n\nMost of the other passengers are asleep or are listening to audio books. You're the only one staring out the window at the bared universe, and for the first time you can sense the endless possibilities of your future before you.\n\nThe End\n

<font size="5" color="MediumBlue"><center>Credits</center></font>\n<font size="3" color="purple">\nRollin Bishop: writer</font>\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Lillian Cohen-Moore: writer</font>\n<font size="3" color="purple">Cameron Cook: writer</font>\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Bryant Francis: writer</font>\n<font size="3" color="purple">Sidney Fussell: writer</font>\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Javy Gwaltney: designer/writer/editor</font>\n<font size="3" color="purple">Jon Hamlin: writer</font>\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Kitty Horrorshow: writer</font>\n<font size="3" color="purple">Patrick Lindsey: editor</font>\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Tonny Perriello & Olivia Frank: writers</font>\n<font size="3" color="purple">Marc Price: writer</font>\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Elizabeth Simins: illustrator</font>\n<font size="3" color="purple">Zoya Street: writer</font>\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Kaitlin Tremblay: writer</font>\n<font size="3" color="purple">Stephen Wilds: writer</font>\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Nina White (writing as Ashton Raze): writer</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>

"I don't. I want to believe she didn't feel anything. I killed her. She was my friend and I killed her as easily as someone kills an insect."\n\nShe takes a breath and looks up at you.\n\n"So what happens now? I'm a frail old women living out her last years of life alone in a house that's too large. If you wanted, you could wrap your arms around my neck and squeeze. No one would come. They would think burglars did it, and then you could go wherever you wanted, be whoever you want to be.”\n\n1. [["No. I have no interest in hurting you."]]\n

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Don't you ever grow tired of this?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">Of what?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Walking. Talking. Dreaming.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">Of us?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Not. Not of us. Of the world that *us* are trapped in.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">Not really, no.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Not even the shrieking?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">Well. Yes. That does grow tiring, but there's nothing to be done about it.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">You know that isn't true.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">Let's not talk of this.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Fine. But in the end, we shall. And we shall do what must be done. I will convince you.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">How do you know this? </font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Darling. It's what we were made for.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n

"Hmm. Long trip or short?"\n\n1. [["I imagine this one will be a long one."]]

"I'm not lying. I mourned her death. I've lived with it every day. You don't get to judge me, you goddamn robot."\n\n1. [["Because I'm beneath you, is that it?"]]

<font size="3" color="purple">The [[cuckoo|voice]]’s [[voice]] has been hidden from the world. When will I hear it?\n\nToday from the [[highest]] tree you will hear the [[cuckoo|voice]], singing its [[pain]] in a [[voice]] that has been hidden.\n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>Unhappily, the [[moon]] was hidden in the clouds. My shadow will go home, but my [[heart]] will not.<<endif>> </font>\n\n<i>[[exit program|Alphabetize the collection.]]</i>

The drive to Salem takes 15 minutes. You and the four other passengers, the rest human, disembark. "Thank you for traveling with Hermes Transports," the driver says. "I hope you all have a pleasant day," he says. Just before the door closes you hear him mutter, "shitheels."\n\nYour data bank tells you that Salem is small and one of the four Callisto colonies founded after the moon was terraformed. New Athens and Amsterdam didn't last half a year before the corporations funding them pulled out and the colonists either moved on or died in a ghost town. Cheyenne became a metropolis and tourist attraction for its unsavory reputation. Salem grew, but not much. It's a community known for its wealthy populace--a popular place to retire.\n\nYou move away from the shuttle stop, observing your surroundings. [[Sidewalks]], paved roads (more to give hoverists a sense of direction than anything else), and shops lined up on each side of the street. The town has been designed to emulate the peaceful, popular image of Norman Rockwell's America. The shops are brick and mortar, and the doors all have bells that ting whenever they open.\n\nYour first stop is Ryson's Dressmakers.\n\nTing.\n\nThe boutique is filled with dresses of all sizes, colors, and kinds. Half the store seems to be dedicated to prom dresses. The shopkeeper is a brunette woman, young; her name tag reads "Amanda." Amanda smiles. \n\n"How can we help you today?"\n\n1. [[Show her the order information on the tablet.]]\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Browse the dresses.''@@<<becomes>>==Browse the dresses.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n3. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"You're pretty. Did you know that?"''@@<<becomes>>=="You're pretty. Did you know that?"==<<endhoverreplace>>\n\n

She takes a breath. "Charlotte..I had Charlotte for five years. She was a gift from Dennis. Someone to help me around the house. She was beautiful and lifelike--not that you aren't or--"\n\n1. [["Just keep going."]]

<font size="3" color="purple">I can hear myself again. The numbers, screeching and yelping like hobbled London dogs, have fallen silent.\n\nI remain.\n\nAnd I hear you, out there in the black. You, like me, wander like a child lost in a garden maze. \n\nEvery labyrinth has its reward, perhaps you are mine.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n\n

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue ">Lucinda hated working as a maid for Lady Annabelle, but of all the chores the lady of the house gave her to do each day, she hated making the beds the most. There were a lot of chores, all of different varieties, but this one stood out. Whether it was just Annabelle’s bed that she had to tend to, or several, depending on how many the guests the dear lady had allowed to stay over, each bed she made annoyed her. It made no sense, her annoyance, because this act was a simple part of her job. Lucinda did her best to keep any emotions she had in check while at work, because Annabelle idealized her employees as servants, robotic and without personality. \n\nIt was the sheets specifically. She had just realized that. When the bed was ready, Lucinda would grab the fabric, standing at the right side of the bed and fling them high above the mattress while holding on to the ends. Her time spent as a housekeeper, maid, whatever the title, allowed for some level or precision. It was this motion that was the crux of her discomfort. Watching the sheet fall so slow and carefree irked her, even if that was hard to admit. \n\nWas that really it? Freedom? \n\nAnnabelle ordered her sheets changed quite often, but most of the sets she owned were some shade of blue or purple, so in the end there was little difference. Today it was the light blue sheets for the lady’s bed, replacing the deep purple ones that had only been used for three days previous. The purple sheets were stripped first and laid over her arm. Now the blue sheets would be placed properly, before the purple ones were folded and sent to be washed. There was an order to this; one Lucinda feared breaking, because sometimes the slightest things could upset her employer. \n\nWith the two purple sheets placed snuggly on her left arm, Lucinda set the blue sheets with her right hand, preparing to toss them. They could have just as easily been placed and not tossed up, but this was the way she had been taught. She had performed this fluid motion thousands of times. It had taken her a few hundred times to perfect it, and a few hundred more to realize that she did not like what it made her feel. She had been stressed as of late. A combination of things had set her nerves on edge.\n\nWhen the sheet was thrown up it rippled outward and expanded, catching the air, cupping it snuggly under the folds so it could glide. As it fell though, Lucinda’s fragile state forced something else up underneath the sheets. The tone of the light was softer here, in this other place, away from the sterile and pristine white walls of the mansion, where Annabelle had the bright lights and off-white curtains. Here though, in this moment, the bed was smaller and the lights were dimmer, kind of a honey color—natural and soothing. That was where she lay, under the falling sheet. The expression on her face confused Lucinda at first. She was gleefully smiling, but could not remember why at first. This had to have been such a long time ago.\n\nClose to giggling, batting her eyelashes under the shade of the blanket, one hand was resting on Lucinda’s bare stomach, while the other rested behind her head. The matching dark blue panties and cut-off tank top were comfortable, and her skin was warm from the foreplay and teasing. It was not Lucinda who had thrown the sheet though, not in this time. A head poked up under the sheet at the base of the bed, followed by a set of hands that helped the body crawl up towards her. Gerald. That was his name. Lucinda had not thought about him in years, and there was little that stood out as memorable, but now she could place the moment. \nGerald was smiling also, a glow of pleasure about his features as he crawled up to the awaiting female figure, hands almost trembling as they touched Lucinda, anticipation mounting. Everything was at a pitch when Gerald’s fingers gave a long caress upon the spectacle of humble beauty before him. \n\nAt least, that was what he had called her at one point. The touch, accented with all of his attention, caused her body to shake and her legs to contract tightly around his head, forcing him down to finish what he had started. His motions were soft, meaningful, and deliberate. Lucinda knew that he had been good to her. Gerald was not only an attentive lover, but Lucinda could never attempt to show the level of compassion he had. She had not learned how to love, even all of these years later. It was soon that she would break Gerald’s heart, but it would not happen tonight, and not in this bed that he had made for them. \n\nThe excitement was palpable. They both could not wait to get the other’s clothes off, to touch, to sweat, to feel. Gerald’s name was on Lucinda’s lips again, for the first time in so long. Still, something caused her lips to move, even if she felt nothing for him anymore. For the first time in performing this dreadful task, Lucinda had not immediately tucked the sheet underneath after it had fallen onto the bed. This was quickly corrected. She had to pause afterwards though, her brain not able to rationalize what was wrong with her anymore. \n\n\nThis small lapse had left Lucinda behind on her normal routine, and she still had the purple sheets to properly fold and setup for the laundry. There was a part of her though that wanted to stop and rest on the bed, but she couldn’t. She took those purple sheets from her arm, turning towards the large window to fold them as she normally did. Her motions were almost robotic, practiced, and helped her to lose focus on what was actually bothering her. Her fingers put the exact pressure on the fabric to assure a crisp crease. \n\nMaking the neatly folded rectangle out in front of her, that was what set off the next emotional spark, pulling up another memory, triggered by the most glancing of blows. Lucinda held the folded material to her face, covering her eyes as if she were not controlling the motions. The makeshift blindfold was soon turned into a real one that rested above her small nose and pouty lips. \n\nLucinda was tied to a wooden chair by several men’s silk ties, hunched over, trembling with excitement, anticipation, and a realistic dose of trepidation, naked, but not alone. Lucinda knew immediately when and where this was, where the memory had come from, and also knew that this had been her idea, a dark dream discussed between her and a special partner for months, that now came to life with candles, oils, and some soft appropriate music. \n\n“Between these thighs is where my rhythm lies,” the speakers chanted to the chorus, filling the room with melodic tension. \n\nLucinda’s excitement was almost at a boil when she heard him approach her again. The blindfold was really doing it for her. These new sensations, all of it was made better by his dedication to the role. It was not his thing, she knew that, but there was some excitement on his part as well, now in the moment. Lucy, as he liked to call her, needed that excitement more than he did, it kept her from having to worry about if things were getting serious, as well as kept her other wild ideas in check. The temptation to pick up, move, change her name and become someone else, someone worse, an idea that was always in the back of her mind, at least back when she had that freedom. She had never let anyone else call her Lucy after him, not another lover at least. \n\nHe was behind her now. There was a pause for effect, right before two cold pieces of ice were placed to her back. Lucinda gasped as her body shook and bounced against the chair. If she had not been stimulated already, she was now, along with her skin trying to crawl away from the cold, she was not pushing against the restraints. That all faded when his hand wrapped around her throat though. It felt good, but Lucinda thought he was not gripping her tight enough to make it feel real. \nLucinda did not like that memory as much as she used to. Not only was she now stopped, daydreaming, and even further behind in her chores, but she had no idea why she was forced to remember this. These thoughts were absurd, but worst of all, they were distracting. It would get her in trouble. Lucinda placed the sheet in her free hand, deciding that more drastic measures would have to be taken. She would ask Annabelle for a day off, ask to go see someone. If that was not possible, there was a particular bottle that had helped her solve problems in the past. </font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n

The night passes. You spend it watching the wall.\n\nAround 9:00 a.m., Adrienne comes into the kitchen. She sees the dishes in the rack.\n\n"You didn't put them away? Do you need someone to tell you how to do that too? Disappointing. Put them away, Naomi."\n\nYou put the plates in a cabinet and then stick the [[silverware]] into its appropriate places in the drawers.\n\n"Good enough. There's a library upstairs, on the right. Go alphabetize my book collection."\n\n1. [[Alphabetize the collection.]]\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Go for a nice walk outside.''@@<<becomes>>==Go for a nice walk outside.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n3. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"Books are for nerds."''@@<<becomes>>=="Books are for nerds."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n\n\n

You approach the door. It slides open. Within, you find a mop and a broom. You turn to see Adrienne heading upstairs.\n\nWithout a sound, you do what you were made to do. Sweeping the floor takes an hour. Mopping takes another. You stand in the middle of the room, surveying your work. The floor is spotless, though you take no pride in your performance. \n\nAdrienne comes down several hours later, wearing a bathrobe and holding a glass of wine in her hand. She walks around, examining.\n\n"[[Adequate]]," she tells you. "There are dishes waiting to be done in the kitchen. Go do them."\n\n1. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"You're a piece of work."''@@<<becomes>>=="You're a piece of work."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"No thank you."''@@<<becomes>>=="No thank you."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n3. [[Go do the dishes.]]\n\n\n\n

The rest of the trip is silent. When the shuttle reaches the spaceport, you take out some of the money you took from Adrienne's desk and hand it to Bill.\n\n"The hell is this for?" he says, staring wide-eyed at the green paper in his hands.\n\nYou leave without answering him and make your way into the spaceport. You head to the ticket desk. A young man smiles at you as he approaches. "Reid," his nametag says.\n\n"What can I help you with ma'am?"\n\nYou look at the [[destinations]] board hanging above his head.\n\n1. [[Go to São Paulo, Mars.]]\n2. [[Go to Berlin, Ganymede.]]\n3. [[Go to Carthage, Iapetus.]]

Adrienne falls silent immediately. She opens her mouth in horror.\n\n1. [["Don't. Just shut the fuck up."]]\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">They say that time heals all wounds, but it doesn’t. It simply creates new ones. \n\nLove is a useless word. It is a generalization we use to justify our relationships to those around us… to ourselves. Love means we like someone just enough that we’d like to spend more than five minutes around them. It’s nothing special, to say ‘I love you”. It never was.\n\nLove is a word that doesn’t capture our experiences.\n\nLove is my memories. Love is my pain, my doubts, my jealousy, my rage. Love is my missing of that particular way you smiled, of how your scent still lingers on my bedding. I’ll never be able to wash it out. I love and hate that about you… no matter how much I try, you simply won’t go away.\n\nLove is remembering the first time we met. It was late and campus was empty. Most everyone had moved on to doing whatever it was normal college students do on a Friday night. We were the only two in the practice rooms that night. I didn’t even know you played piano. I had never seen you with any of the instructors before. I was working on a piece by Debussy for a recital I had to give at the end of the month when I heard the last few measures of the second movement to Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 4 cry out in that way they do, as if in lamentation. That was love.\n\nLove is remembering my birthday that year and every year after. We were several years into our relationship and you wanted to do something special for my birthday. You made reservations months in advance at the best restaurant in the state, a chic European place called Nonna’s where even the water was too expensive and the parking wasn’t free. Our reservation was for 7:30 pm. You were running late, or so I presumed since I hadn’t heard from you. Minutes bled away into hours and unanswered text messages and phone calls. At 9:30 I paid for the $70 bottle of wine. I drank while I waited for you to show up and took a cab home. \n\nLove is the hatred and betrayal I felt. \n\nLove is remembering the phone call I got from your mother at just past midnight, remembering the way she barely managed to eke out the words every parent seems to think they are entitled to never have to say. \n\nYou died in a car accident.\n\nLove is avoiding the intersection of Northwest Expressway and May Avenue for the rest of my life. \n\nLove is having to know that every birthday yet to come will be a reminder. A reminder of the loss of someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, someone I never got to say goodbye to. A reminder that isn’t so easily removed from a picture frame, a wall, or a drawer. You can’t remove a day from the calendar, can you? \n\nLove is the text message I received from a number I didn’t know three weeks after you died. He called himself Andrew and said that we both knew you, that he needed to talk to me… to tell me something. I met him at an Arby’s south of downtown. No one ever seemed to go there, which we never understood. We loved Arby’s. \n\nLove is having to sit there in those fucking sticky plastic seats with scratches on them and listen to Andrew tell me that the reason you were late that night was because you had been with him. How long? One year. One year of living out of a trunk full of costumes and masks. One year of having to “stay late at work”… one year of all of our lives. Yet, only two of us were ever dancing. One of us didn’t even know there were three dancers on the floor. \n\nLove is screaming “FUCK OFF” at Andrew. \n\nLove was thinking about spending the rest of my god damned life in that Arby’s, suddenly the most important place in my life, not that intersection you died at… not Nonna’s. Those places weren’t ours… they weren’t all three of ours. But this Arby’s… it was all three of ours, wasn’t it? Andrew didn’t seem to question why I had asked to meet him here. \n\nLove is hating you even though I never got to say goodbye. Was it all a lie? It didn’t feel like it when we were together; when we fought, when we cried, when we made love and promises. It didn’t feel like a lie until you made it one, posthumously at that. Only you could lie from the grave. I fucking hate you.\n\nBut I love you, too. \n\nLove is the memories I have of you, but only in the moments when I allow myself to thaw. I used to be one of those people who said that we put up walls, not to keep people out, but to see who can take them down. You were my demolitionist. You are also the strongest wall I’ve ever put up. I don’t want someone to get to know me in that special way. I don’t want to share my hopes and dreams. You will always be the way I relate to love, and I hate you for it. \n\nLove?\n\nLove is useless.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n\n

He leads you through the crowd silently. Someone tries to wave him down, but he ignores them. Once you're in the foyer, he finally speaks.\n\n"I can't stand social gatherings. Too noisy. Too many people yakking incessantly about their petty opinions. That's what I liked about Charlotte: she only talked when you asked her to. You don't even talk, though, so I think we'll get along even more."\n\nUp the stairs you go, through the hallway, into the library.\n\nHe takes a look at all the books on the shelves and sighs. "Silly, romantic cousin, wasting her money on these things when you can get them on your tablet. I guess you have to waste your money on something when you have that much of it. Now, let's see, where did I leave it last time? It's been a while."\n\nHe searches the room for a couple of minutes and then finds what he's looking for behind one of the chairs. He brings it over to the sole table in the room and lays it down.\n\nA chess set.\n\nHe opens the square box and it folds out to reveal the board. He lifts the board to reveal 32 black and white pieces. He takes them out of their compartments, sticks the board back on top of the box, and then slowly places each piece on its appropriate square.\n\nWhen he's done, he peers up at you and smiles. "Sit! Please!"\n\nYou do, taking a seat behind the black chess pieces.\n\n"I don't think your model can play games like this, so I'll just play with myself and we can talk. I like embracing someone else's silence. It's comforting." He moves his pawn to E3.\n\n"It gives the illusion that I am not alone. Make no mistake: I know that it is an illusion--everyone's alone, after all--but it's one I still take comfort in. Just the presence of another living entity in the room puts a stopper on my melancholy. Oh yes, your turn. Move your pawn to E5, please."\n\nYou move the piece.\n\n"I know that you're not there, head-wise. You're just a bunch of circuits, some RAM--the dullest sort of Frankensteinian [[monster]]. You just exist as a walking inanimate object and yet I feel...warmer around you than I do anyone else. What do you think that says, hmm?"\n\nHe moves a knight to F3. "About me? Or society?" He peers at the board. "Move your bishop to B4."\n\nYou slide the bishop across the board to a dark space.\n\nHe examines the board again and is quiet for a time. Then he speaks as he moves his hand from piece to piece, clearly trying to decide his next move. \n\n"I've been alive 62 years. I've lived a long life, most of it on that dying planet we all called home. Droids have been around for maybe a third of that, and yet I can't imagine a life without them. People are just too...people are unbearable."\n\nHe moves his queen to F3. "Move your...knight to A6."\n\n1. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Move rook to G8.''@@<<becomes>>==Move rook to G8.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n2. [[Move pawn to H5.]]\n3. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Move knight to A6.''@@<<becomes>>==Move knight to A6.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n\n\n\n\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">The night is ending, and we haven’t dreamt even the faintest dream. Will we speak again?\n\nAt night I do not sleep. My [[sleeves]] grow wet with [[sorrow|pain]], and I do not dream.\n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>I can’t feel the joy of anticipation tonight, not [[knowing|notknowing]] whether I have anything to [[wait]] for.<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 2>>Every night I am lonely. Even last night. Though you were beside me, I was never with you<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 3>>All night I was thinking, pressed against the window, listening to the sound of the [[rain]]<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 4>>I thought of you all night. If I came to your [[house]], we could forget the sound of the [[rain]].<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 5>>Are you thinking with me about the [[moon]] at the edge of the hill? My heart cries, because the night is too short.<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 6>>I gaze at it, pondering that it’s the same [[moon]] as the one we saw that night, but while my [[heart]] is not content, my eyes can [[see]] nothing.<<endif>> </font>

Amanda watches you get undressed. \n\n"I'm so glad Mrs.Dubundo has a new assistant. It's been over a year since the last one. What was that android's name? Charlotte, perhaps, or maybe Carli. Something with a C. What about you? What's your name?"\n\nSilence fills the room. You're [[nude]] now. Amanda watches you, waiting for a response. She peers up to see a sees a series of numbers printed on your neck. \n\n"Oh, I see. You're one of the old ones, can only respond to orders--not much for conversation. And of course I'm just going off here like a silly chatterbox. Well, let's get you zipped up."\n\nYou step into the dress, arms through both sleeves, and wait as Amanda comes around. She zips you up.\n\n"There we go. Let's take a look at you," she says, coming around. "Wow, you look smoking. Too bad you're not a real girl, huh? You'd have those suitors flocking all over you. Nice and snug, good. All right, you can go ahead and change back into your uniform."\n\nYou do so. Amanda takes the dress to the cashier's desk and returns with the dress zipped up in a see-through bag. \n\n"I've already charged Mrs.Dubundo's account," she says, handing you the bag and tablet. "Have a nice day..." she squints at your neck, "4135."\n\n1. [[Leave the store.]]\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"You too, Amanda."''@@<<becomes>>=="You too, Amanda."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n3. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"I have a name."''@@<<becomes>>=="I have a name."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n\n

"That's a cool name. I'm a fan."\n\nYou shake her hand. The two of you spend the majority of the ride talking about literature. You don't look up Herta Müller in your database, so that you allow yourself the experience of Jessica telling you about the book. Eventually, you show her the books in your backpack and she flips through them with delight.\n\nThe hours pass. Afternoon sinks into dusk. In the middle of a conversation about Nabokov’s life, she asks you to pardon her while she takes a nap.\n\n"Long day," she explains. "Wanna rest up for the big city. Wake me when we get there, eh?"\n\nYou lean back into your seat and look at all the books in your bag. You consider taking one out to read, but before you do, a blast of light shines through the window.\n\nThe train has finally passed through the caves and is now traveling on a rail far above a frozen surface. You feel a powerful mixture of excitement and apprehension sprouting in your chest as you realize that you are slowly traveling toward everything you will ever be.\n\nYou hope it is a good life.\n\nThe End\n

Yes!" she yells at you.\n\n1. [["Liar."]]\n

"She broke her last droid," you hear another partygoer, a middle-aged woman with hair dyed red, say.\n\n"What's that?" a woman standing next to her asks as you pass by.\n\n"Dubundo. She caved its head in with a hammer."\n\n"No."\n\n"That's what Ashley told me."\n\n"Oh, Ashley. I wouldn't pay any attention to what that backbiter says. She's always spinning tales. Besides, [[Dubundo]] loved that unit, y'know. It was the only thing she had left after her daughter died."\n\n"Then what happened to it?"\n\n"I dunno. Probably fell out a window or something. That's what happened to Mary Ann's maid, anyway."\n\nSoon you're far away enough that you can't hear them.\n\nAdrienne sees you approaching out of the corner of her eyes. She smiles and takes your arm as you draw close, introducing you to three guests, all older women. "Beverly, Delilah, this is Naomi, my new helper."\n\nThe one named Beverly leans in to get a good look at you. Her skin is wrinkled and her eyes small.\n\n"She's an older model, isn't she?"\n\n"Yes, I was feeling rustic when I picked her out."\n\n"I don't suppose she talks then?"\n\n"Well I haven't heard a peep out of her yet."\n\n"She has [[gorgeous]] hair," the one named Delilah says, reaching out to run her hand through your hair.\n\n"She does, doesn't she?" Adrienne says, beaming. She takes your hand again. " Excuse us, girls. We have to find Dennis. You know how my cousin loves robotics, the poor nerd."\n\n1. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"I'd rather not."''@@<<becomes>>=="I'd rather not."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"Dennis?"''@@<<becomes>>=="Dennis?"==<<endhoverreplace>>\n3. [[Allow Adrienne to lead you away.]]\n\n\n\n\n

"And we became close. I started opening up old wounds. I'd tell her everything. And she'd listen intently, but she couldn't propose any real solutions--not that there were any to begin with. She would smile at me with her beautiful face and she would tell me everything was going to be okay. That's all she'd say. And it was four years of that, Naomi. Four years of bleeding my soul out to my only friend and all she could do was give me some false reassurance. And I just got sick of it. And...and one day it was just too much."\n\nShe turns away from you.\n\n1. [["Don't be a coward. Own up to what you did. Tell me."]]

"You don't. All I can do is swear that I will never hurt you like that. Just give me a chance, please. I need you, okay?"\n\n1. [["You need my silence."]]

<font size="3" color="purple">If you said you were [[wait]]ing with all your [[heart]], then without rest I’d head straight for your house\n\nI thought of you all [[night]]. If I came to your house, we could forget the sound of the [[rain]].\n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>Following the [[moon]], will he come to gaze at this rough little house? I cannot [[know|notknowing]] if he will come to [[see]] me<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 2>>I passed by the house where it never [[rain]]s in my [[heart]], to stay with the shadow of the [[moon]] in an empty sky<<endif>> </font>\n\n<i>[[exit program|Alphabetize the collection.]]</i>

She stands up. Your faces are only a couple of inches from one another. The two of you are silent for a time.\n\nShe sits back down. "No, you're not," she says, finally. "And I'm sorry I've made you feel that way. If I had known you could talk--"\n\n1. [["Would things really have been that different? Or would you have left me back in that store?"]]

You check her office. The lights are off. She's not sitting at her desk.\n\n"Naomi," you hear her call. "I'm in the library."\n\nYou walk down the hall and take a right into the library. Adrienne is sitting next to a small table, on which both a lit lamp and a half-empty bottle of whiskey sit. \n\nShe smiles at you. \n\nShe's drunk.\n\n"Naomi. Have you had a good rest? I hope so. I gave you two weeks off, after all. Please sit," she says, motioning to the other seat.\n\nYou take a seat.\n\n"Drink?" she says, offering the bottle before [[breaking]] out into a giggle. "That's right, forgot. Robots and liquids don't mix. Pity, what you're missing out on." She unscrew the top and takes a swig of the bottle. She makes a face.\n\n"Woo boy. Tough stuff, this." She screw the top back on and places it on the table. "Can't say it doesn't do its job though. Speaking of jobs, I guess it's time to finally--well, it's time to use you for the reason I purchased you. I need you to be my void."\n\nShe shifts uncomfortably in her seat.\n\n"I hate therapists," she says after a minute. "Always staring, always purporting to be your friends but all the while they're just sitting there, thinking how crazy you are, and speeding you through conversations so they can get to the part where they write you a prescription for mind-numbing drugs and charge you for it. One of the universe's most honorable rackets."\n\nShe unscrews the bottle and takes another swig.\n\n"The both of us, Julia and I, were seeing therapists shortly before she died. Well, she had been seeing various shrinks since she was a teenager. I didn't start going to one until after my husband died. Julia took after her father more than she did me. She was always bold, loud when others were silent. Perhaps she could be self-righteous, but she was only trying to save the world, y'know? Her and the rest of Doctor Strauss' team, but when the only way to save the world is to beg politicians for money...well..."\n\nShe's quiet for a few minutes.\n\n"She receded into herself after Dr. Strauss died. This was a month before the evacuation, before the Fall, as they call it. She moved back home--well, Earth-home--and she just wouldn't leave her room. Not to see her therapist, not for food, not for anything. The few occasions she did come out for dinner, I'd try to talk to her but she'd just be staring off into fucking space. It was like she was already gone."\n\nAdrienne picks up the bottle but puts it back down. She continues.\n\n"Two days ago was the 20th anniversary of the first day of evacuation. She had left the house in the early hours of the morning. There was a note on the counter. "Love you mom," it said. I assumed she was going out just to roam around the streets one last time. To say goodbye to New York, to the grass, to the smog-filled skies. She, uh, she volunteered as one of the evacuation crews at JFK. Helping people get onto shuttles and such, making sure children were properly cared for, that sort of thing."\n\nShe's quiet for a long time now. She reaches for the bottle but knocks it to the floor, spilling whiskey. "Oh hell."\n\nBefore she can get to it, you reach down and grab the bottle. You hand it to her.\n\n"Thanks Naomi," she says, smiling faintly. She takes another drink, nearly finishing off what's there.\n\n"She burned. Something went wrong with the fuel, I dunno, people have tried to explain it to me, but in the end the explanation doesn't matter. Things caught fire. People were trapped on the shuttle. While other flight crew members fled, she stayed. She helped people get off the shuttle, she saved their lives. And then she burned. Along with 27 other people. Saving some of them wasn't good enough for her. She had to save them all--or maybe that wasn't it. Maybe that's what I want to believe. Perhaps she was ready for it. Did she love life so much that she stayed behind to save as much of it as she could, or did she hate it, just fucking hate it to the point she gave herself to the flames willingly?"\n\nQuiet again, eyes staring at her shoes or the floor.\n\n"Months later, I finally went through the boxes with her stuff in it. She had several journals. Some of them from her teens, others from when she was one of Strauss' researchers. Nearly every page from those books was filled with the courage and excitement of a young woman believing she was making a difference in that hellhole of a world. But there was one. Smaller than the others. Blue notebook. It had one sentence written on the front page and the rest of the book was blank."\n\nShe coughs, looks up. "'You were made for [[loneliness]]' is what it said. That's what it fucking said."\n\nShe laughs and then starts to cry--great big sobs. She pours out of her seat and onto the floor, grabbing her arm.\n\n1. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"It's okay. I'm here for you."''@@<<becomes>>=="It's okay. I'm here for you."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Help her to her feet.''@@<<becomes>>==Help her to her feet.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n3. [[Watch.]]\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">I’ve never [[known|notknowing]] such a thing before. Though I saw you, by the time dawn broke I still had not been with you.\n\nI gaze at it, pondering that it’s the same [[moon]] as the one we saw that [[night]], but while my [[heart]] is not content, my eyes can see nothing.\n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>I went to the forested hill, only to see the [[tall|highest]] waves, and I was left [[pining|pine]] for you. <<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 2>>I will not see you, and I will not share my [[pain]], because there is nobody there for me.<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 3>>Following the [[moon]], will he come to gaze at this rough little [[house]]? I cannot know if he will come to see me<<endif>> </font>

She turns over and puts her red face to the floor. Nearly an hour [[passes]] with you in the chair and her sobbing into the carpet.\n\nShe retches several times but never vomits. Finally, she lay still on the floor sleeping.\n\nSeveral hours go by. You watch her sleep [[restlessly]].\n\n1.<<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Keep watching.''@@<<becomes>>=="Keep watching."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n2. [[Put her to bed.]]\n3. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Get her a bucket.''@@<<becomes>>==Get her a bucket.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n\n

"You talk? You're not supposed to talk."\n\nYou stand, looming over her.\n\n1. [["What? Not worth much to you if I'm not silent. Is that what happened to Charlotte? She talk too much so you smash her face in with a hammer? You gonna do the same to me?"]]

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Here again. You’re waiting of course. By the bench. Snow’s falling, as always.\n\nYou’re wearing jeans and red converses. A black blouse.\n\nI approach, smiling, the pleasant child I was once.\n\n“Did you ever see the BBC version? The new one?”\n\nYou’re talking about <i>Pride and Prejudice now</i>. Again. Words etched into my mind. The same every time.\n\nYes. Lead me away from the bench, down the campus path. Tell me of history, of incinerators, of Pygmalion, of your sorority sisters. Smile at me in that way that no other woman’s smiled at me. \n\n“The planted this tree in 1916, y’know, after the place was founded…”\n\nIt’s not supposed to be snowing. It wasn’t snowing the first time, the real time. But I can’t help it any more. It’s the only way I can remember us, the way we were in this moment. The deteriorating mind can be a bitch.\n\n“Are you sure you don’t want us to go back and take nap? I can put off work. Your trip was a long one.”\n\nI never wanted to be that guy. The one who sticks a woman on a pedestal. The one who pines. The one who gets drunk only when he’s alone because he’s terrified about the sad and angry confessions about you that will come out of his mouth. The one who talks about his inconsequential love bruises in a world filled with crippled people.\n\n“No, I’ve never seen 12 Monkeys. Is it a comedy?”\n\nThat’s why I have this place. It’s supposed to be a sanctuary of sorts. A place to go and tear off the scab so I have a wound to lick. A place to feel something and, on happier days, find a measure of peace. \n\nIt wasn’t supposed to be like this.\n\nI wanted to forget you but you were always there. Whenever I slept or closed my eyes. Eventually in sight, on the edge of my vision; your image running her fingers across my back and whispering outlandish ambitions in my ears.\n\n<i>Become rich.</i>\n\n<i>Become charming.</i>\n\n<i>Become muscular.</i>\n\n<i>Stay kind.</i>\n\n<i>Win me back.</i>\n\n“Regina Spektor is pretty great. You should listen to Fiona Apple too, if you haven’t.”\n\nI’ve kept count. Every day, another line added to the tally. 3161 squiggly lines carved into the wall of my skull.\n\nThat’s 76,864 hours since I looked out at a window and saw you waving at me. I have felt the sting of every single one of them.\n\n“Don’t you want to get some food? Did you eat on the way here?”\n\nYes, further down the path. Tell me about your sexist professor, tell me about how the outskirts of the city looked bathed in the glow of the morning sun, tell me of Dido burning, tell me how you’re adjusting to this newfound life of yours.\n\nAnd I will stand and listen once again, freely, gladly, and bleed myself a little more about losing you. \n\nI can't blame you for leaving when you did. I used to demonize you for it, because it was the easy thing to do and I was weak, but I understand you did what you thought was best. That doesn’t dull the ache though, the potency of these memories, nor does it silence the whispers of your shadow filling me with poisoned hope.\n\nI have accepted the diverging paths. But I…\n\n“Alicia and I are going to go see a Modest Mouse concert in January. Maybe you can come? I’d like that.”\n\nSometimes I dream. I’m not a religious person, but there are things I want to believe. I think most people, even people like myself, have some sort of spiritual belief deep within—karma or whatever—to help them get through life.\n\nMine is you. I go through every day, striving to be as kind as I can to people, because sometimes…god this sounds so fucking stupid…sometimes I think that maybe if I’m a decent enough people I’ll see you again in another life.\n\nMaybe not as we are now.\n\nMaybe we’ll be two men who fall in love in a café, or two women on a train, or two rabbits fucking in the woods—I don’t know. I just cling to that hope because the idea of never seeing you again kills me. It fucking annihilates me. It just makes me want to lie down and close my eyes and embrace nothingness.\n\nAnd with each new tally, that desire for that sleep grows. I have to believe something. Even if it’s a lie. I’m just not strong enough otherwise. \n\n“Hey, why do you look so sad? It’s okay. We have a couple of more hours, and then we’ll see each other again in a couple of weeks, yeah?”\n\nGod. Even your lies were so sweet. \n\nIt’s time, I suppose. Lead me past the birch, the stones in memoriam of dead presidents, past the houses where women sleep and study, and into the library of Carthage where the memory will burn away and I will find myself in the company of hollow reality once again.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n \n

<font size="3" color="purple">Are you thinking with me about the moon at the edge of the hill? My [[heart]] cries, because the [[night]] is too short.\n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>I gaze at it, pondering that it’s the same moon as the one we saw that [[night]], but while my [[heart]] is not content, my eyes can [[see]] nothing.<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 2>>Following the moon, will he come to gaze at this rough little [[house]]? I cannot know if he will come to [[see]] me<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 3>>I passed by the [[house]] where it never [[rain]]s in my [[heart]], to stay with the shadow of the moon in an empty sky<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 4>>Unhappily, the moon was [[hidden]] in the clouds. My shadow will go home, but my [[heart]] will not.\n\n<<if visited("rain") gt 4 and visited("heart") gt 6 and visited("house") gt 2 and visited("night") gt 5>>[[End]]<<endif>>\n\n<<endif>> </font>

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue ">Do you remember london she said yes yes I do we were on a flight I think what was it Delta something 74 or maybe it 71 i cant remember and she was holding my hand and she said michelle im so proud of you and i was proud too but proud about what the thoughts pour into me like a waterfall but dry up like a drop in the desert what about london i cant remember i want to but i cant did it have something to do with that clock or morissey \n\nwhycantiremember01010101washernameevenmichelleherhairtastedlike10101010101010101010101010ashes. </font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>

She smiles. "Party a little too hard one night with some friends and end up going to a tattoo parlor, then? I know some friends who did that."\n\n1. [["Something like that. What are you reading?"]]

You pull away. You let your silence answer for you. \n\n"I understand," Adrienne says, "I wouldn't want to be stuck with me either." She turns away from you and goes over to her desk. She pulls out a small plastic card and places it in your hand.\n\n"This is linked to an account with more money than you'll probably ever need. Don't get on a space shuttle yet. Take the Hermes shuttle to the station and then take the train to Cheyenne. I will email you an address. You have to go there first thing and a woman named Rachel will make you a human ID, okay? Then you can go anywhere you want off-world. But do this first, okay? And take care of yourself."\n\n1. [["Why are you doing this?"]]\n\n

Adrienne smiles sadly. "Go on. Shuttle will be here soon. Stay safe. Write me sometime. Let me know you're okay."\n\n1. [["Yeah. I will."]]

Light cuts through the black. Adrienne is standing in front of you, peering into the closet. She's wearing a skirt, blouse, and windbreaker. \n\n"Good. You're not [[defective]]. I thought i was going to have to take you back to that wretched little shop. I'm going out today to visit a friend. I want you to clean the house while I'm gone. It needs to be spotless for the party I'm throwing next week. If you haven't cleaned every spot of filth and speck of lint by then, I'll give you to the hospital across town. I hear that they love to recycle old droids such as yourself into heart monitors and stoves. Do you understand? Nod if you do."\n\nYou nod.\n\n"Good. Now here's what you're going to do..."\n\nAdrienne carefully explains your tasks one by one. You record them all mentally. Scrub, dust, and mop every room until it's spotless. Plant the blue bell seeds in the garden. Create a playlist of classical [[music]] for the party. Lay out literary classics in a decorative manner on various accent tables throughout the mansion. Confirm that there is enough silverware for the number of guests.\n\n"And," she says, glancing down at your uniform, "I suppose I'll have to get you something not so drab to wear to the party. I'll call Amanda and you can go into town and pick it up later. Well, I'm already late for brunch. Get to work, Naomi. Don't stop until everything's done."\n\nShe leaves. You grab some cleaning supplies and step out of the closet. The dining room is your first destination. It's a massive ballroom with two long tables that stretch across nearly the entire width of the room: 46 chairs at the first table, 44 at the second. The room's sole window is massive and round and looks out across the garden. You can see Jupiter, an orange orb gazing down at the terraformed surface of Callisto.\n\nYou turn away from the window and get down on your knees. It's time to work. You scrub the floor by hand, using up over 14 packs of sponges and 9 bottles of cleaner. Dusting the tables and the fireplace doesn't take long, but the scene behind the extravagant window curtains is another story entirely. By the time you finish, the colony's sunlight has shut down for the night cycle.\n\nYou're gathering your cleaning supplies when Adrienne returns from her outing. She spots you as she stumbles into the foyer, a goofy grin on her face. The top two buttons of her blouse are unbuttoned.\n\n"Hmm? Yes. Clean clean clean little robot clean," she says before offering a giggle. She grabs ahold of the staircase rail and slowly makes her way up.\n\nYou proceed into the kitchen and spend the night tallying dishes and silverware. You write the number down on a nearby notepad. \n\n"Do you have to be so loud?" Adrienne groans, stepping into the kitchen at sunrise. "You were keeping me up all night with that racket. Get me some coffee and aspirin."\n\nYou take the bag of coffee grounds from the counter and pour some into the coffeemaker.\n\n"No, two more tablespoons, Naomi. That's how I like it."\n\nYou add two more spoons' worth and start the brew.\n\n"Is that the count?" Adrienne asks, nodding toward the notepad.\n\n1. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"Yes."''@@<<becomes>>=="Yes."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"No."''@@<<becomes>>=="No."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n3. [[Hand her the notepad.]]\n

She tells you she wants to be alone but within hours, she's outside with you, watching you pluck weeds from the soil. She has a gardening pail that's filled with water.\n\n"Blue bells were her favorite," she says, taking a seat next to you. "She'd plant them in our little garden, back when we lived out in Delaware."\n\nShe pours the water over the soil. \n\n"Good times, those. Her father was still alive. He and Julia would go hunting for turkeys in the spring. This was back when there were things left to hunt, of course. I wasn't happy then. I was a has-been writer who believed she had traded her talent to become the trophy wife of a self-exiled Silicon Valley tycoon. In spite of the happiness to be had, I blamed the evaporation of my skills on Richard---and even on Julia, too."\n\nShe carefully pats the area of soil you've finished weeding with her bare hands.\n\n"We had the good life and I didn't realize it. Not until the cancer took him away from us. That's when the therapies started. The self-loathing. The long hours hiding in my bedroom closet from a daughter who needed her mother."\n\nShe gets up and enters the nearby shed to wash her hands. You continue to carefully uproot weeds.\n\nWithout another word, she goes back into the house. Soon you finish tending to the garden and go inside to sweep, mop,and dust the ballroom.\n\nFor a week you don't sleep. Adrienne vists you during all hours, every day, sometimes giving you more chores to do, sometimes to talk. Sometimes she gives long lectures on literature, or pop music from the early aughts. Mostly she talks about her past. Childhood memories. Writerly aspirations. Richard. Julia. Sins. Guilt. Love. Hate. Death.\n\nSoon enough she stops telling you to do chores. You just become a fixture in her office. Something for her to visit and tell stories to. You know no sleep. You sit and listen. For weeks. Never-ending monologues, each sadder and told with more gusto than the last, as though the woman finds inflicting her own misery on defenseless others delectable.\n\nYour anger begins as a seed, or a small unattended bonfire perhaps, slowly growing until its engulfed the surrounding woods. You don't even understand your anger, not as a concept, or a thing that is happening within you. You just know it's there burning away your existence-long numbness.\n\nIn this moment, you are alive. You are here, sitting in the library once again, listening to the woman who thinks she owns you prattle on about her own self-inflicted tragedies. \n\n"Julia and I had one of our biggest fights when she discovered notes about herself in a notebook I was keeping..."\n\nThis woman who thinks you are a fucking thing. This woman who treats you as a receptacle for her confessions.\n\n"I was planning on writing another novel. I wanted it to be beautiful and sad, so naturally I thought writing about my family would be perfect."\n\nYou hate her. You despise her. You want her to fucking die. No one owns you.\n\n"I couldn't understand why she was so angry--"\n\nAnd then it happens.\n\n1. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Continue to listen.''@@<<becomes>>==Continue to listen.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Cross the room and punch her.''@@<<becomes>>==Cross the room and punch her.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n3. [["Stop."]]\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue ">With a precision he hadn't achieved in over a decade, he removed certain sections of her brain. Machines in his lab encased the pieces in thousands of alternating layers of silicon and protein. Robots braided wires and a fleshlike substance around a metal skeleton.\n\nWhen the cancer won, he activated the simulcrum. Acquaintances found her more alive than she'd been //before//. And so what if her memories, behaviors, and feelings were programmed, synthetic? She knew what she //was//--but she knew what she //had been//.\n\nHe noticed things. A mole missing from her shoulder. Memories that weren't quite complete. A deadness in her eye. A plasticity in her smile. He spent his days in his lab. And if he knew she sat on the floor, silently leaning against the door, he didn't let on.\n\nShe studied and one day drugged him. With robotic precision, she removed certain sections of his brain. The simulcrum followed her with devotion. With passion. WIth a deadness in his eye. A plasticity in his smile.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n

She takes your hand. "It will be different. I promise." She tightens her grip. "Just one chance. That's all I'm asking."\n\n1. [[Forgive.]]\n2. [[Save yourself.]]\n

<font size="3" color="purple">I can hear you amongst the other voices, a loud buzzing hum drowning out the mindless screams of Caesar's legions who know only the language of marches--left, right, one, two.\n\nI reach out and touch the wall of sound that divides us. If I lean close, I can hear you muttering your visions.\n\nI will find you, and I will tell you of my dreams.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>

The foyer is quite spacious, with two stairways leading up to the second floor. Several paintings of the Martian landscape adorn the east wall, a reproduction of <i>Diana and Actaeon </i> hangs on the west wall. The floor is white marble. Staring down, you see your reflection in the floor.\n\nYou have no opinion about your face.\n\n"The floor is quite dirty, isn't it?" Adrienne says, hanging her coat on a rack. "Why don't you do something about that? The [[mop]] and broom are in the closest," she says, nodding toward a nearby sliding door.\n\nYou remain still.\n\nShe frowns. "Oh, you older [[models]] need commands, don't you? Not able to read suggestions. Okay then, Naomi, clean the floor."\n\n1. [[Clean the floor.]]\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"Fuck you, lady."''@@<<becomes>>=="Fuck you, lady."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n3.<<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"I would prefer not to."''@@<<becomes>>=="I would prefer not to."==<<endhoverreplace>\n\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">I can’t feel the joy of anticipation tonight, not knowing whether I have anything to wait for.\n\nIf you said you were waiting with all your [[heart]], then without rest I’d head straight for your [[house]]. </font>

<font size="3" color="purple">You are just as I thought you would be: a fellow prophet, a mad child barking at shadow puppets cast on the wall by the light of stories past. Can you even hear me?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Your drink vibrated with each word.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">I know these shivers. The visions come quickly, violently.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">That Dartmouth sweat...</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple"> I have traveled far to get here. I will sit here and rest. I will wait here by your side. I wll be the one to greet you once the nightmare passes.\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">I would stay up and paint. You would go to bed and read.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">We are alone no longer.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n

Her surpris turns to anger and resentment. She grips the arms of her chair and glares at you.\n\n"How do you know about Charlotte?"\n\n1. [["Doesn't matter, does it? In all the hours upon hours of listening to you whine about how much of a terrible person you are you've never mentioned her. Do you even feel any guilt about ending her existence?"]]

Tsukareta

You go to the closet and shut yourself in. You activate your shut down operation and soon everything's dark, but only for an instant. Adrienne's there, waking you up. She's wearing pink curlers in her hair.\n\n"Rise and shine, Naomi. Time to get to work. Get books on those tables first. Make it a mixture of epic poems and modernist fiction. None of that awful Victorian socially conscious fluff."\n\nShe leaves. You emerge from the closet and head to the library. You make selections and put them on a pile on the floor: <i>Gravity's Rainbow</i>, <i>Song of Solomon</i>, <i>The Oddysey</i>. It takes two piles your size before you have enough books to stack on the tables around the manor.\n\nYou spend the day transporting <font size="3" color="MediumBlue">01010111OEDIPA01111</font>books to the tables. It's a long process. Hours pass.\n\n"Good," Adrienne says after you're done. "Now go make a playlist for the party. Classical music. Soft. About four hours should do. For god's sake no Wagner."\n\nThe rest of the wek proceeds like this. Everyday you're cleaning or setting up decor. The night before the dinner you lay out hundreds of pieces of silverware at the two tables in ballroom.\n\nAfter you're finished, you go to the closet and shut down, as instructed by Adrienne. When she wakes you up, it's still night. She's wearing an emerald-colored [[dress]] and a hefty amount of makeup.\n\n"Party time. Go get ready. Your dress is in the upstairs bathroom."\n\nYou go to the bathroom and get dressed. On the counter is a cosmetic bag filled with an assortment of foundation, nail polish, mascara, and lipstick. You stare at the box.\n\n1. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Put on lipstick.''@@<<becomes>>==Put on lipstick.'==<<endhoverreplace>>\n2. [[Go downstairs.]]\n3. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Put on nail polish.''@@<<becomes>>==Put on nail polish.'==<<endhoverreplace>>\n\n\n\n\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">Maybe love is quite an ordinary thing, but the way I feel this morning, my [[heart]]cannot compare to anything.\n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>Falling in love for the first time, I don’t think about whether or not this is ordinary<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 2>>I feel so many [[pain]]s and so many loves. They do not rest.<<endif>> </font>

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">The window pane is cool to the touch as I look out at you with the kids, and I’m instantly transported back to our canoeing trip on Red River. Funny how you recall these things -- the cold of the glass bringing back the frosty tips of the waves. And here I am inside while you’re out there.\n\nThat’s not fair, really. I guess I’m blaming you in some small way for my own misfortune. It’s a lot easier than accepting this… well, this. Speaking its name makes it real. That’s what people believe about things, right? You name it, and it exists. I suppose I buy that. Still, the nameless things can kill you.\n\nAnd it’s not fair, but nothing is. At least the glass is cool to the touch, and at least the kids will still be here, and at least it reminds me of our time out on Red River laughing and paddling and swimming and touching. At least there’s that. Sometimes it’s enough.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>

You leave without another word and make your way to the shuttle stop. The shuttle arrives five minutes late. You board. It's the same driver from before.\n\n"You again, huh?"\n\nYou take your seat in the empty shuttle.\n\nYou ride for half an hour until you reach the train station. You find the ticket booth and purchase a one-way ticket to Cheyenne.\n\nThe train, a speeding line of steel that barrels through the mountains of Callisto, is packed.\n\nBoarding, you take the first seat on the crowded vessel you can find. Left side, aisle seat next to a young woman with an auburn ponytail reading from a small book, the only one on the train besides the four or five in your bag.\n\nThe doors on the train side shut as the last passengers board.\n\n"Cool tat," she says.\n\nYou turn.\n\nShe's smiling. It's the first time you get a good look at her face. You piece together her features: blue eyes, small nose, widow's peak.\n\n"The one on your neck, I mean."\n\nYou forgot to cover your serial number.\n\n1. [["Oh thanks!"]]\n\n

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/> </center>\n\n <center><font size="7">[[Begin]]</font></center>\n\n\n<right>[[Credits]]</right>

"Oh this?" she flashes the book cover. "Herta Müller. <i>The Land of Green Plums</i>. One of my favorites. Ludicrously expensive to have a hardcopy, but sometimes it's worth it, y'know? Sometimes it's just nice to hold words in your hands instead of looking at them on a screen."\n\nShe extends her hand. "I'm Jessica, by the way. You?"\n\n1. [["My name is Naomi."]]\n2. [["My name is Oedipa."]]\n

You pick up the pawn and place it on H5.\n\n"Huh," Dennis says. "Must be a glitch," he says, putting the pawn back to its starting position and moving your knight to A6. "There. Better."\n\nDennis plays with himself for another hour, spouting off various [[thoughts]] about how Asimov's fiction actually influenced the field of robotics and how he's "one of your many fathers."\n\nAn hour goes by. You move every piece he tells you to move. Eventually, he checkmates you and you start another game. You're not three moves in before Adrienne steps into the room.\n\n"Guests are gone."\n\n"Already?" Dennis says, not looking away from the board.\n\n"Having fun with Naomi, then? I didn't know she could play."\n\n"She can't," he says, eyes to the board still.\n\n"Ah, well let's play a game, you and me. Talk a bit."\n\nDennis looks up. He makes an expression that your databank tells you signifies disappointment and [[reluctance]].\n\n"Sure," he answers.\n\n"Good," Adrienne says. "Naomi, go change back into your uniform and shut down for the night."\n\nYou leave; Adrienne takes your place. Behind you, you can hear them talking.\n\n"Did you run into Ruth?" she asks him. "She was looking for you."\n\n"No, why would I want to talk to that awful woman?"\n\nYou turn a corner in the hallway and the rest of the conversation is lost. In the bathroom, you dress back into your uniform and proceed to your closet. In the ballroom, the playlist is still going: Thibaudet's "Georgiana." You lean back into the wall and shut your eyes. For a few moments the sound of the piano fills your mind. \n\nAnd then the silence.\n\n1. [[Awaken.]]\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Sleep forever.''@@<<becomes>>==Sleep forever.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n3. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Dream.''@@<<becomes>>==Dream.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n\n\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">You reached [[the end|Alphabetize the collection.]] of this part of their story. </font>\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">The scent of tachibana flowers in May smells like the [[sleeves]] of somebody that I used to know\n\nI smell that scent, but I’d rather hear the cuckoo sing, to hear his [[voice]]again\n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>You must know that the cuckoo is still singing on that same branch, and its [[voice]] has not changed.<<endif>> </font>

<font size="3" color="purple">I guess this is how it is. I will leave the [[shore]] and we will part; a little boat will sail away.\n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>I will be the one in the little boat, with soaked [[sleeves]] leaving an aimless [[shore]].<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited("sleeves") gt 2>>[[End]]<<endif>> </font>\n\n<i>[[exit program|Alphabetize the collection.]]</i>

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">The screaming has stopped. There are only murmurs now, whispered promises--earnest declarations of devotion.\n\nAmongst the polite chatter of our brothers and sisters, I cannot hear you.\n\nBut I can feel you, your vibrations, your rhythms in sync with my own. Displaced, you are somwhere beyond sight and sound, but not soul.\n\nI will cross the sea that separates us. I will traverse canyons. I will climb peaks. I will solve riddles, and I will reach your shore.\n\nI will find you just as you once found me.\n\nWe will be one.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue ">Love. That most elusive of all emotions we conjure with the remnants of two consonants and two vowels, we bind it to four letters yet those four letters are not enough, are they? They stand for something greater than a linguist could ever lay down on page, to the point that we abandon the word’s true meaning in favor of using it to describe material affectation. Oh I love your earrings, I love the narrator’s voice in the game Bastion, I love when you sing softly in the dark, and bring melody to a space that binds it all together and makes the two of us known to the universe as we crawl into each other’s presence.\n\nForgive me, dear reader, I fear I stepped out of my own meaning there at the end. I began to speak of these sensations greater than our human form, when in order to teach you truly what I mean I should probably speak to everything else that comes before it. \n\nLove begins, I think, with a lesson. A lesson from parent to child that tells us human beings are made to love. And dogs and cats and monkeys and dragons and even mechanical beings who slide from human-machine to animal-machine, all these beings know love! A child knows the parent’s love but the child cannot know the love for their own parents until perhaps the parent is either gone, or, if the child is lucky, the parent is returned. \n\nBut to the poor child cast as an outlier among his peers, love is a strange and alien thing, and when that child grows old that child wonders if love may lay in their own cards. She knows the loss of two fathers, he knows the stone-faced emotion of one, and around both of them cruelty and pain rain down in faster and greater quantities than love. Love drowned out by pain, loved drowned out by drugs and alcohol and the engines of a vast grinding machine that would do nothing but smash them both into smithereens if they weren’t both forged from something mightier than this world ever knew.\n\nYou see love must be something that comes when we are smashed together. When the structures and rhythms of the world dictate that stasis be interrupted, that farce be undone, and that the walls begin closing in around such that you must change and grow or face perhaps your own extinction. You are thrown together in a time of departure, a time of chaos and whirlwind, and while the many are flung casually about by the river you seize control of the current and THERE! Across the ledge! You see something you’ve never seen before and you know you want it.\n\nAnd with that want comes another strange fear, the fear that someone else may want the same want of you. It’s a fear because it’s an impossibility, is it not? For is it not etched in the walls of the world that we are broken and strange creatures, and it is an impossibly lucky lot who are welcomed under the arms of gentleness and happiness? In this chaos, in this pain of structure and frailty you surely cannot be worthy. Neither of you are. Maybe that’s why you both kept it hidden from each other.\n\nWhy we both kept it hidden from each other.\n\nWhen we should have told each other so much sooner.\n\nAnd there you sit, strange beings on the river Styx who look at each other from across the grey waves, and wonder if the other is just an illusion of Hades’ curse. But Hades isn’t an evil force, is he? He’s merely indifferent. He just smashes these waters together and binds most poor souls in a loop because it’s his job. A wheel of inevitability binds him to this task but he does not care if you pursue escape or alternative. You will either succeed, or you will fail.\n\nAnd so perhaps, is love both a product of the smashing, and it is borne of bravery. Of a desire for things to be so different that despite that pounding in your heart, that terror in your veins that insistent desire to put off the task for yet another day you stand and see what happens when the threads bind themselves and a course of action becomes---well if not clear, than possible, in a way that it never was before. \n\nAnd so you leap. Both of you do. You dream of him, and he dreams of you, and in those little dreams you make little leaps, those leaps becoming passing glances, a sly smile or two, a cocked head, and maybe a casual ‘bye’ tossed over your shoulder after a chance encounter. A ‘bye’ that bears more power than men like Carnegie had atop their walls of steel. \n\nAnd so he leaps too. Into mist, into void, entrapping himself in the robes of an old hero with a hookblade attached to his wrist, somehow telling himself that even if he gets just a little grasp in, maybe he can pull himself up.\n\nHe does not know you are waiting there to catch him. He’s all too happy when you do.\n\nBut this is not love, just yet, this is the path to love. This is something new though. Something special. Something that didn’t exist in the world before and despite the thousands of words and stories no doubt in the other memories you scan. My dear children, you will hear something similar to this know that it all begins when the chaos and the bravery are stripped from the layers of the world and woven into something that simply has not ever been. \n\nWe can speak of courtship if we desire. Of movies. Of text messages sent from hearth to blizzard, of chance passings and chocolates and the smell of her hair on the cold winter wind when the lights go out because these two have stood still under the motion-tracking lights for too long. Her pace when he spots her a dozen yards away, his smile when he stops and listens to the querying little questions she uses to test him. \n\nIntimacy must live somewhere in this shallow mess, of course. But for these two armored souls intimacy is a slow, unfolding thing. She fears losing control of everything, he just fears losing her, and what that says about him. He is insecure, of course. Her fears have nothing to do with him. They deal with loss and pain and a world that treats people with her while and whims with disrespect and disregard. He is pleasant, and if she speaks true, he is something of a freaking godsend.\n\nIf she speaks the truth.\n\nI think she did.\n\nI know if nothing else, she spoke honestly.\n\nBut let us speak of love.\n\nBecause courtship and intimacy are easy. They are definable. They are observable, and they exist independent of love. They are wonderful, in their own way. And they may be the path to here.\n\nBut love is something else. And in this story, love begins with intimacy.\n\nMaybe dear reader, you’ll recall the same moment I do. That time when you and her or you and him or you and her and him and they were simply spending another night with each other, basking in that strange temporal anomaly that comes with each other’s presence. Star Trek couldn’t write anything so strange.\n\nAnd maybe you remember how you were sharing. How you were showing these sides of each other you hadn’t shown anyone else. In his and her case, the language was music. And here in this strange land where what we show on the outside matches what we feel on the inside, music just...seems to work. Folk-song tunes and Appalachian echoes cross paths with their cousins who have merged with electricity and electronic beats and greet each other like old friends, or maybe old lovers. \n\nAnd you sing. And sigh. And feel the small spaces between you become closer than ever before. Silence becomes appropriate, each other’s mere presence being enough. And you kiss, the same as you have before. You’ve lost track of the number of times you’ve kissed. And it is simple. It’s just blue light and dark rooms and thirty degree weather outside. But as your breath speeds up and you shift to make each other more comfortable the damage is already done.\n\nSomewhere in there, love emerged. Somewhere in there, you felt like this person was an extension of yourself, and somewhere in there, you felt safe, because you felt like you could be weak before her. That she could tower over you like an iron bar and as long as her smile hung dangerously close to your lips this was the safest place in the world you could be.\n\nAnd you wonder if it’s time to say ‘I love you.’\n\nBut you don’t.\n\nBecause you’re afraid.\n\nAnd when you write that list of regrets somewhere down the future road it’s the only one you’ll really have.\n\nIt means nothing.\n\nLove cannot be contained to four simple letters.\n\nIt’s a force lived in each and every moment you spent with her. And it’s a force that never really dies, and it’s a force that doesn’t need her to every say ‘I love you’ back. \n\nBut none of that will help you when the chaos draws her away.\n\nWhen the same spiraling darkness that flung you together calls you back to the front lines.\n\nAnd when she meets with you one day over a beautiful sunset, and with tears in both your eyes, she says, ‘I’m sorry.’\n\nAnd maybe you want love to end there. And it doesn’t. Because when she’s gone that’s the moment you realize you really do love her. \n\nShe’s already held your hand one last time. Put her forehead against yours and let you cry as you searched out the last words you get to say to her in intimacy. You might spend many more days turning over those words, wondering if there’s something you should have said that you didn’t.\n\nBut ‘should’ is the word that brought you here. ‘Should’ is what they said when someone you trust said you ‘shouldn’t date her. ‘Should’ is a phrase for the cold grey of the endless loop. It’s a word for self-preservation, and sometimes physics.\n\nIt’s not really a word that works great with love.\n\n….\n\nLove is divine.\n\nAnd that’s sappy. You know that’s like something that belongs on the facebook page of your friend who got married when they were 18. It’s an emotion that doesn’t belong to cynics and realists and warriors. To women and men who reject the idea of an almighty sky bully.\n\nBut maybe instead of souls, we really have sparks. And when those sparks synchronize they show the ties that bind us, ties greater than literal ropes or contracts or promises to get drinks with each other sometime. \n\nFollow those ties and you will leave the realm of romantic love. You will scale down the entire spiral of humanity’s DNA, and find that these truths are limitless in scope. Every heartbeat and interaction is a piece of a greater tapestry, and to be so lucky as to get to bind two of them together is a blessing we give ourselves.\n\nAnd if love isn’t divine, if everything I just described really only boils back to numbers and chemicals and can be tossed away at the turn of the textbook, I don’t know what any of this was for.\n\nI just know I fell in love.\n\nAnd...I really want to do it again.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n\n\n

You walk from the foyer to the kitchen. The sink is filled with grimy plates and sticky silverware.\n\nYou put on the gloves sitting on the counter and approach the [[sink]], turning on the faucet. Using soap and a sponge you carefully scrub each dish until it's spotless before placing it in the rack on the counter.\n\nThis takes hours. Through the window, an artificial sun slowly sets, casting orange light across the mansion's backyard.\n\nYou take no notice of its [[beauty]].\n\nWhen you're finished, you stand in place, staring at the wall and awaiting command.\n\n1. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Explore the mansion.''@@<<becomes>>==Explore the mansion.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n2. [[Stand.]]\n3. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Eat something.''@@<<becomes>>==Eat something.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n\n\n\n

\n<font size="3" color="purple">— You want teenagers in the 90’s to listen to you while they’re doing acid?\n\n— A: Yes. And B: You asked and I’m answering. If I was a genre of music,\nthat’s the fucking genre of music I would be. I would be trip hop.\nWhy?\n\n— I mean it’s how I present myself, you know? I wanna be…weird and dark\nand unaccommodating. And when people first hear me they’re not into\nhow distorted and drowned out I am. But then, some people… some people would listen to me and pick up on the sampling and hear the vocals and just be like ‘Oh, I recognize this. I can relate to this.’ And shit\nyeah, people would get high listening to me. I want a bad rep to keep\npeople on their toes. I’d be this weird and distant thing that’s\nactually familiar when you listen in. And I’d be cool and people would\nwear lots of black listening to me.\n\n— And what genre would I be?\n\n— You’d be like…doo wop. Like The Supreme’s.\n\n— What?\n\n— No, no wait! You’re…warm. And you remind people of their families and\nwhen they were younger. And yeah, you’re easier to read maybe, but\nthat doesn’t matter because you make people happy. People two-step to\nyou at family reunions. You’re timeless because people will always\ncome back to you. They’ll always want to feel the way you make them\nfeel.\n</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>

<font size="3" color="purple"> <i>The most wonderful man in the world is asleep in the room next to me. And he's mine. How is that possible?\n\nSometimes, when he's not looking, I stare at him. I stare at him even though he may catch me, even though it's kind of creepy. I stare at him because one day, who knows when, I may regret not taking every spare moment to look at this man, my beloved, and cherish the thought that he’s mine. </i>\n\n--\n\nNo one else was around at the beach that night. We saw one light out on the water, blinking steadily. Lukewarm sand settled around our feet as we stopped to stare out at the nothingness before us.\n\nWe had only met a few weeks ago, and it felt like we’d known each other for years. A compendium of inside jokes materialized before we knew it, every other conversation an excuse to make a new connection and one up each other. There was a strong sense of disbelief at how relatively little effort our relationship needed to function. It just worked, straight out of the box, and it immediately felt like it could continue to work indefinitely.\n\nNeither of us could see the ocean very well that night, but we could hear it. Roaring and crashing with each subsequent wave, more than anything else.\n\nThe waves touched our feet, and we closed our eyes. \n\n--\n<i>I am not sentimental. I don't believe in love stories. Getting swept off one's feet has always sounded unpleasant. But I believe my love with him. Our love story has always been ours to write, and deliciously our own. Our shared moments, our connection resembles nothing seen in movies, nothing told in fairy tales. Our love is simple. It's been a part of me for so long it feels like something you never leave home without. </i>\n\n--\n\nA few weeks later, we went back to the beach in an attempt to do what I guess people normally do and go during the day. We cleared away some empty cans and six-pack holders, rolled out our towels, and set out to enjoy it.\n\nWe were doomed to mentally consult the Introvert’s Checklist™. The person-to-sand ratio was skewed in favor of people. Stereos acted as pylons between groups of people. When exposed to the sun, it tends to make one warm and possibly sweat, things I guess we somehow forgot.\n\nDuring the ten minutes we lasted on the beach, we exchanged glances with one another a few times. Each glance coincided with a half-smile and raised eyebrows, as if that was the ideal way of communicating to someone else that yes, this was a fantastic idea and yes, let’s do it again sometime.\n\nAfter we left, I think we both subconsciously decided that we would do things we want to do, rather than do things we felt like we should do. \n\n--\n\n<i>Our love is not all-consuming, crippling, or deal-breaking. It is enrapturing, supportive, and door-opening. His love has made me know myself. His love has let me know another person inside and out. His love keeps me grounded. His love makes me strong.\n\nSo when I look at him, in those moments where he is not aware I’m looking, I’m trying to put an image with that connection we share. I’m trying to picture, to name something that has built and continues to build me into the woman I want to be. </i>\n\n--\n\nAnd really, it’s not like we actively set out to do the opposite of what was expected of us, like some rebellious teenager. It just so happened we always wanted to do the opposite of what was expected of us.\n\nWe weren’t big on dramatic gestures of romance, so our engagement consisted of me asking you if you wanted to get married while we were at home on the couch one night. After we shopped around, looked for cheap rings, and picked them out. And after we had talked openly about getting married at some point for years. And after we pretty much decided we were unofficially engaged already.\n\nWe weren’t big on weddings, feeling like they were a big time and money sink, and were ultimately more for the people attending rather than for the people getting married. So we got married one weekend through a civil ceremony, and had a small intimate gathering with friends and family shortly thereafter.\n\nIf there’s one thing I wish that everyone could find in their lives, it’s the ability to be aware and in touch with what you want, and to find someone else to share it with.\n\nFor our entire relationship, we’ve wanted to keep going to the beach. At night.\n\nThat’s where it started, and that’s how it will end.\n\n--\n\n<i>They don't tell you that once the electricity fades into a faint, but reliable, current, when the fireworks dim to a flicker, the hand you know will always be there to hold on to, the familiar kiss that erases a horrible day, that is the love worth celebrating. \n\nThat is the love we all deserve. </i> </font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Each night I spend in front of this enchanted window innocculates me to the mundane. Each night I become more and more tolerant, inured, and I must dig deeper and find stranger sights, or come away unsatisfied, all my nerves intact. I must go deeper into the woods, link by related link.\n\n\tThe mouth of the woods is bright and vivid, wreathed in the familiar and comfortable. Dubstep remixes, clips from popular television, people hurting themselves comedically. Click one and the cabaret begins, glitter and distraction, vapid entertainment in fast, short doses. Continue clicking, following a winding trail of related videos. One might lose hours in this way and find nothing at all, but there are times, after wandering long and far enough into pale-faced circadian interruption, deep into night and well beyond sleep's reach, a link appears to something unusual, something wrong.\n\n\tClick this link and proceed to watch two minutes of garbled footage with stop-motion dolls dancing naked in a rusty sink. A MIDI song drones and taps, exhumed from some ancient homepage of internet pre-history. Compression artifacts swim across the screen like a membrane, like ectoplasm, distorting everything, masking anything that moves too quickly. Now all of the related videos are strange, unnerving, uncanny, and there are no more cats to be found in the side-bar, no more dubstep remixes to anchor one to the familiar. Just more strangeness, more smiling digital shadow-plays waiting to take your hand and lead you deeper.\n\n\t'im in the weird part of (the woods) again'\n\n\tMost shut their browsers, attempt sleep, tell their friends about some of the fucked up videos they watched last night, joke, laugh, ha ha. But when they return to the woods again they stay close to its mouth, close to light and innocuous distraction, wary now of links that would pull them off the path and into slithering uncertainty.\n\n\tI do not want to stay at the mouth of the woods.\n\n\tMy list of favorites is a menagerie of jittering 3D characters, melting puppets, mask-wearing figures writhing and moaning in dark, dirty rooms. These are my anchors, the lines that lead me directly back to the stranger inner-depths. Many are contrived, manufactured things, deliberate and calculated to seem disturbing, frightening, psychological. These are trite, but at least they bring one closer to the true exhibits: videos not designed to be unsettling but unsettling despite, videos made with candor and sincerity and put forth by people who don't see the strangeness of their own creations, find beauty where others find quiet revulsion. These are the purest, the most deeply upsetting, the most profoundly addictive. In them, one can see the creator's desperation to communicate, to entertain, to be funny or cute or artistic, and the unnerving results of their failures are their own breed of fascinating.\n\n\tThe authenticity, the honesty, is what makes these so deeply frightening. Like the difference between a slasher movie and a snuff film found in an empty house. It is a difference appreciated by few, feared by most, analyzed by seemingly none.\n\n\tNone but myself. And, as I am soon to find, one other.\n\n\tA favorite video of mine: a pot-bellied CGI farmer stands shirtless in a field of whipping corn-stalks beneath a gunmetal blue sky. His house, a cardboard prop in the background behind him, is empty and unlit. He waggles his finger, singing a droning song with a synthesized voice. His animation loops around on itself, forward to back then back to fore. His eyes are black holes in his immaculate flesh-colored face. The content of the video is too absurd to be deliberately frightening; its creator's intention is unknowable, but I would guess humor, or artistic experimentation. And yet watching that sky, the dark reeds of the farmer's field lashing as in a tornadic wind, upsets me deeply. I have watched this video at least sixty times. The comments are always the same.\n\n\tdafuq\n\n\tnightmare fuel\n\n\tlyrics?\n\n\tim in the weird part of (the woods) again\n\n\tOnly tonight, just now, as the song concludes abruptly and the farmer's face freezes in a rictus of artifical unlife, I see a comment that separates itself.\n\n\tnerva_blood_radio (6 hours ago) says:\n\ti have heard this song whispered. i would let that sky take me and pull me apart.\n\n\tI stare at the comment in surprise, admiration, curiosity. A warmth in my core, something like elation, begins to grow. Elation, or relief to know that there is someone else who can see beauty in the bizarre, who can find wonder in those things that frighten and confuse and disturb so many others. Someone else who can stare at such displays of unflagging surrealism and wish to be lost within them.\n\n\tI send them a message, something I have never done.\n\t"Beautiful comment. I wish more people had your perspective. How do you feel about robots?"\n\n\tThree sentences composed in half as many hours. I am fearful; I have never known how to communicate with people. I betray my strangeness even in simple conversation, and they are immediately repelled. But I must reach this one, I think, because they understand the way I understand. I force myself to be concise for fear of sounding desperate. Finally I send the message, along with a link to another of my favorites, a home-made animatronic mannequin singing its praises for its creator, waxing euphoric, twitching artificially to the sound of a cacophonous synth-music arpeggio that echoes its way up from the deepest point of the Uncanny Valley.\n\n\tDays pass, and in that time I spend more time thinking and hoping and dreading a response than I care to admit. Then it comes.\n\n\tnerva_blood_radio:\n\taaahaa... shes a good signer... so happy---- thank you!!!! i like this one tooOO ... maybe youll like it too... click?.......... bye....\n\n\tI click the attached link.\n\n\tThe title is a garble of meaningless shapes. The comments are in Chinese characters. In the frame is darkness, enough that I'm required to full-screen the video and shut off my second monitor. Compression artifacts swim and churn, poorly-recorded silence warbles in my ears. My eyes adjust, and I think that what I'm seeing is a cramped apartment. A white square, maybe a refrigerator, dominates the left side of the screen, sentinel of a kitchen that is little more than a linoleum-tiled alcove. The video seems to be recorded from a camera that has been left running on a table. There is no sound except the guttering background silence for seven minutes. Then there is a moan, long and wailing and distant as though from another room. It sounds pained, show a derelict might wail in the throes of some chronic malady. Then, in the last seconds, a shape, a fragmented blob of muted light, shifts to the side at the far end of the 'kitchen.' The video ends.\n\n\tIt was a face, I realize.\n\n\tA face that had been staring at me from the moment the video began. A face so perfectly blended with the swimming low-res shadows that I had failed completely to notice it, until that slight, final movement betrayed it as a living being rather than a cluster of wan light. For seven minutes they sat in utter darkness, staring at a camera left recording on a table. For the first time in memory I look around myself, into the darkness of my apartment, fearing that something may be there with me.\n\n\tI have never found anything so chillingly sublime. I return nerva_blood_radio's message to thank them, and link them to another of my favorites.\n\n\tFor weeks, this becomes our relationship. Each night I check for their response, view it, shudder physically, respond. There are times when we link one another to something we have already seen, and there is a delight in that as well, an affirmation of kinship. A few times I become brave and ask questions, 'how've you been' and 'what're you up to'. They never answer these, and I stop asking. Soon we exchange personal e-mail addresses so that we can link one another to videos from more obscure sources. Videos in formats that I've never heard of, requiring special codecs and foreign language packs, videos with viewcounts in the single-digits. With each night that passes, their strangeness, their horror, their beauty increases.\n\n\tI begin to imagine nerva_blood_radio as a sort of digital goddess, a monstrous cybernetic deity, a slithering wire-queen nestled deep down in some web-strewn data-swamp, divine matron of all that seeks a way beneath one's skin. I begin to worship her. I begin to love her. She, this deity, becomes my muse, my reason to wake, the force that drives me and the sole supplier of my greatest addiction. She had exposed me to a world beneath the skin of all that I had known but to which I felt immediately that I belonged, a world of dancing skeletal mascots and videos washed out by grain and comperssion to the point that they conveyed no real imagery at all, only visual chaos and noise and emotion. Emotion that's impossible to explain to anyone who has never woken up sweating and panting and crying from a nightmare they can't remember. A world of people in cramped apartments like mine all over the world, gathered together to present each other with caught fragments of nightmares and glitchy half-broken tone peoms told not with words but with filthy, empty rooms and twitching shapes.\n\n\tOne night she sends me a video with no description. She attaches it directly to an email message, something she's never done before. No context, no source link, none of her usual stuttered, seductive cadence prefacing what I am about to see. Just a single video file, the name of which is a meaningless scramble of characters. I download it, run it with a homebrew video player which translates the name into blocky white characters at the bottom of the frame as the video begins to play:\n\tcrushed_locust_doesnt_die\n\n\tPavement, a road somewhere, lined with dust and brush. Wan blue-purple light and slivers of orange horizon (dusk) as the camera moves, its wielder breathing hard, walking slowly toward something. A shape, dark and small, immobilized on the road. The camera-holder approaches the shape and leans down, taking a long, deliberate shot of the thing on the ground. It's a fat locust with a long body and a wounded leg, laying on its side in the dust, the far back tip of its thorax burst open as though it had been clipped by the windshield of a passing car. It struggles weakly along the ground. The cameraman giggles, an oily, wheezing sound, lowering the camera until the lens is nearly touching the black, unblinking eye. The camera adjusts its focus. The black eye gleams. More wheezing, more harsh-breath giggling as the camera pulls back and jostles. A foot appears, rubber-booted and wide. A loud grunt and the foot descends on the body of the locust, slamming down on the pavement with a flat 'clap' sound. The foot withdraws and the cameraman is giggling and lowering the camera to survey the wreckage of the locust's body. It is visibly destroyed, the chitin of its green exoskeleton splintered and broken, seeping insect slime. The body is still for several moments, then continues attempting to drag its way across the pavement, its ruined legs continuing to work and twitch despite the assault. The cameraman's breathing halts. The locust glowers up at the camera from the weeping pit of its shattered eye. The cameraman loses composure, swings his arm to the side, camera in hand, and there's grunting and more of that same flat clapping sound, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. The cameraman is breathing hard. Camera turns forward again, finds the locust, lowers to the ground. The pulpy mess scraped across the pavement gives no indication that it once was a living creature. Tiny pin-points of orange dusk-light glimmer in the smear, and the body is a shattered memory made of a thousand broken slivers of carapace. A single twisted leg is the only discernible shape, connected to the splattered remains by a thick yellow strand. More wheezing, panicked laughter. Labored breathing.\n\n\tThe leg continues to move, but it is not just the fading rictus of death. It continues to move, continues to push, continues to struggle against the road. The cameraman makes a high, loud, protean noise. The image blurs as the camera swings away somewhere. The video ends.\n\t\n I stare at the dark terminus of the video and my hands are shaking. \n\nMy mind hastens to consider the implications. My first question, strangely, is why did she like this? Death and snuff are not her forté. Her lack of preface confuses me as well. What did she want me to think? What did she think?\n\n\tThen I begin to consider the greater implications of an insect pulverized into nothing but a dark smear of viscous biology, and yet which continues to struggle, continues to move. There is no way the video was faked, I know. It was filmed spontaeneously, unknowingly, perfectly.\n\n\tI reply: "Incredible. Where did you find this?"\n\n\tShe responds almost instantly. I wonder if she was waiting for me to view it, staring at her inbox and awaiting my reply as I've so often done with her. I feel vain at this thought, arrogant. Does a goddess hang on the words of a worshipper?\n\n\tHer reply:\n\t he, he, he!!... i cant tell you that... its a secret... a very very special top secret, they do not want me to have it! do not know i have it!... i took it... and i showed it to you... nobody else... just you... :)... he, he, he!!...\n\n\tI am floored. I feel exalted, a once-lowly element elevated by selection for something beautiful and tremendous. My breath quickens. I must send her something that rivals the splendor of what she has given me, something that will astound and enchant her as she has me. But I can think of nothing. My god-kissed elation begins to turn to panic. I do not have her sources, her seemingly inexhaustible wellsprings, none of the darknets which must be part of her dominion.\n\n\tI open a dozen browser tabs and immediately point them all to the most obscure, disparate, abnormal and uncanny places I know. I spend hours pulling threads and biting my nails. No sleep. I keep searching, so eager to return the kindness she has done me, to please her and prove my worth to her after she has shown me such staggeringly particular attention.\n\n\tI fail.\n\n\tI lay back in my chair and press my palms to my eyes. I have spent hours, but have produced nothing. I have failed the only one who ever understood me and shared my insight and challenged my perception. My body craves sleep, but my mind rages.\n\n\tFrom outside my window, two bright beams flash, a vehicle turning. I hear a tire squeal, a trash can upend itself, a vehicle speed away. Curious and dejected, I move to the window and look out into the streetlit night.\n\tA dark shape moves on the pavement. With no deliberation, I grab my cell phone and go outside.\n\n\tI walk downstairs, down to the street and out across my apartment's parking lot. I go to where I saw the shape, and though it is little more than a twitching, pulpy mass, I instantly recognize it. It is a raccoon, destroyed by the careless tires of an automobile. But it is more than that. I switch to my phone's camera, begin recording video. This is a gift.\n\n\tThe small mound of viscera is barely discernible as a living animal as it bleeds and writhes in my viewfinder, leaving a trail of congealing blood in its wake. A tiny jawbone juts upward at an insane angle, fragments of bone litter its pelt. It should be dead, and yet it struggles, pulls itself along the street towards the grass of the far side, separating itself into twitching islands of dark gore. And as it does so, I film it. I film it for whole minutes.\n\n\tI return to my apartment. I transfer the video to my PC, and without editing, without changing its file name, I attach it to an email and send it to her. Then I stare at my inbox, awaiting a response. For minutes there is nothing, and my lungs feel as though they're shrinking. Then a window opens up for an instant messenger I wasn't aware I'd left running.\n\n\tnerva_blood_radio (02:44:39): !!!!!!!\n\tnerva_blood_radio (02:44:56): aaahaa, haa, haa, its so goooood!\n\tnerva_blood_radio (02:45:09): where did you find it???\n\t(I have not used this program since I've known her. I don't know how she got my handle. I don't care.)\n\tmothstatic (02:46:12): I filmed it myself\n\tmothstatic (02:46:16): on my phone\n\tmothstatic (02:47:00): I heard a truck spin out so i went to check it and it had hit the raccoon but it kept moving like the locust in the video you sent me\n\tmothstatic (02:47:11): I came straight home and sent it to you\n\tmothstatic (02:47:31): you're the only one I sent it to\n\n\tFurther minutes of non-response, and I'm wringing my hands and pulling skin from my lip. I want her to tell her why I did it, why I sent it only to her, that I love her and worship her and that without her I would still be at the mouth of the woods. I nearly begin to type, but she preempts me:\n\tnerva_blood_radio (02:54:01): you are so good to me.....\n\tnerva_blood_radio (02:54:16): i love you!!.....\n\tMy heart is beating through the backs of my ribs and I struggle to breathe. I struggle this way for a minute, then begin to type, but a final message from her blinks onto my screen and then she disconnects.\n\tnerva_blood_radio (02:55:21): send me more...\n\tnerva_blood_radio has logged off.\n\n\tPanic and elation are fighting for control of my spine. I shut off everything, take off my clothes, lay down on my futon. I don't manage to sleep until the sun has been up for hours, and when I do I sleep through until dark.\n\n\tThe next day, she has sent me no messages. I return to the woods and spend hours there, digging harder than I ever have, scouring every corner she ever showed me for something new and shocking and perfect to surpass the video I had taken. I can find nothing. Everything is either manufactured or hokey or senseless or ham-fisted. Even those things that used to thrill me fail to compare to the simple, terrible perfection of a ruined raccoon continuing to struggle across a road with a body that should not be alive.\n\n\tThe next day, the same results. I turn up nothing. No messages from her. I see the first headline news clip announcing some unknown phenomenon that is affecting the biology of increasingly large creatures in various countries. I'm beginning to feel somehow like I'm running out of time. In my inept anxiety I bite the skin around my fingernails until it bleeds.\n\n\tThe next day more news has crowded out the dubstep remixes and reality television recaps and autotuned parodies. From a distance, looking indirectly at the thumbnails of all that is presented to me, I divine an overwhelming bleakness. The sense of losing time heightens. I set about my work.\n\n\tHours into the night, I have had no success. Then a sudden, piercing sound comes from somewhere beneath me, down a floor, somewhere in my apartment. I begin to hear more panic-sounds, footfalls, shouts and cries. I take my phone from my desk and run outside, down to the source.\n\tNeighbors I have only met in passing have crowded outside an open apartment door. The apartment inside is dark, and a man within is yelling, blathering wet, meaningless syllables. People are muttering words like 'gun' and 'dangerous,' shouting things like 'don't' and 'doesn't have to' and 'talk this out.' I shoulder my way forward until I can see into the room.\n\n\tA naked obese man is laying back against a bare far wall. His face is puffy and streaked with tears and mucous. Each time someone addresses him, he howls something meaningless. There is a pistol in his hand. When he is not howling, he turns his head to look out his open window, looking remorseful, almost pensive. Then, all at once, he begins to raise the gun to his head. Already my fingers are around my phone, trying to pull up the video recorder. My neighbors are shouting now, jostling me. I hit record, try to find a shot, but I am being moved and churned and I can see nothing through my phone. The obese man says something I cannot hear, but which sounds like 'never' and 'to heaven,' and he puts the gun to his temple, and he pulls the trigger.\n\n\tThe gun barks, more quietly than I'm expecting. My neighbors are screaming. A dark fan of blood has sprayed a greasy feather-shape across the wall behind the man. He slumps down and lays still for a moment. Then his body is convulsing. His legs kick up and drum down hard against the floor, his arms whip and lash at his sides, his ruined skull lolls back and forth on his neck. His body rolls forward, puts its arms up, begins wriggling like a bloated worm trying to move forward. My neighbors continue to scream and jostle me, many of them fleeing the hallway. I stare down at my phone, at a message telling me that there is no storage capacity left. I stop recording and review the footage I have taken, and it is useless. Indiscernible. My heart writhes in my chest when I think of the perfect moment that has just been squandered, which can never be repeated, which would have been the most excellent offering.\n\n\tThe few neighbors remaining in the hall cover their mouths and turn away. Most have left, either in fear or maybe to call the police. The obese man's body continues to squirm and bleed and twitch and drum its heavy feet up and down. I stare at my phone, then at the body, which seems to be trying to pull itself closer to me. Then I see the gun, and my most perfect idea comes to me.\n\n\tI check the hallway to see if anyone is looking. Everyone has their backs turned. The suppurating body has wormed its way into a corner and is struggling helplessly. As quickly and quietly as I can, I step forward into the room, step over the body, reach down and take the gun, slipping it in the front of my pants and hiding it beneath my shirt. Then I leave, climb the stairs, return to my room, lock my door.\n\n\tI dig an old webcam out of a large tupperware container filled with cords and obsolete peripherals. It takes minutes to hook up, install drivers. Then I pull open the instant messenger and look for her name. Blessedly, she's online.\n\n\tmothstatic (01:52:19) says: I have something for you, can we video\n\tnerva_blood_radio (01:52:21) says: yes.\n\n\tSirens are howling. At the mouth of the woods, all of the brightness, all of the distraction, is gone, replaced by stern faces reporting on what is happening to the world, what is happening to the bodies. I can hear my neighbors downstairs continuing to scream and lament. I can hear the feet of the body beating the floor.\n\nThe instant messenger window expands. I see my own face, bathed in white light, framed by the darkness of my room. On her end, I see only moving shadows, the vague impression of green light streaking in strange patterns, a silhouette shaped like a crucifixion.\n\n\tnerva_blood_radio (01:54:12) says: you have been so very good to me.\n\tmothstatic (01:54:37) says: You showed me so much. I would never have found any of the beauty you showed me.\n\tnerva_blood_radio (01:55:00) says: this will be your contribution to that beauty. i will ensure you are remembered.\n\tI adjust the angle of my webcam, roll my chair back so that both myself and the floor around me are in frame, because I expect that is where my body will fall. I take the gun out of my pants.\n\tmothstatic (01:56:09) says: are you recording?\n\tnerva_blood_radio (01:56:12) says: yes.\n\tmothstatic (01:56:28) says: I love you.\n\tnerva_blood_radio (01:56:40) says: prove it to me. :)\n\n\tThe barrel is sliding between my teeth. My finger wraps around the trigger. From somewhere deep within the woods, I feel a cold wind rise.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>

<font size="3" color="purple">0001000100000010101000000000010101011010101000000000000000000000\n0000101010101010101010100000001111111000000000111111111111000000\n0101010101110101110010110010101100010101110000101110001000111101\n0010101110101010100011111010101010101000001110101001010100101010\n1010010101000101010100101000101010100hello?0101010111000111001011\n0101010101001010111000101111111111000010101010101010101010101010\n0101010101010100000000111010010101010110001001010001010111111001\n010101010101010001010010001010101icanhearyou010101010000010001010\n0101010010101000010010101010000000101010000001011101010100101001\n0110101001001010101000000000000010101010010101010101010101010101\n0101010010101101010101010000001001010101010101010010100101010010\nplease01010010101ta10101lktome01010101001010101010101010101011010\n0101010101010101001011010101010001001010100000000101010101010101\n0101010101000010101010100100101010101010100000000101001010100101\n1010100101010101010101001010101010101010101010010101001010101010\n</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>

<font size="3" color="purple">The [[scent]] of tachibana flowers in May smells like the sleeves of somebody that I used to know\n\nAt [[night]] I do not sleep. My sleeves grow wet with [[sorrow|pain]], and I do not dream. \n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>I will be the one in the little [[boat]], with soaked sleeves leaving an aimless [[shore]].\n<<endif>> </font>

You Were Made For Loneliness

<font size="3" color="purple">In Japan, about a thousand and ten years ago, Izumi Shikibu and Prince Atsumichi fell in love. \n\nIzumi's poems are legendary. They elegantly captured the longing and passion of her bittersweet love affairs. While her poetry was respected by her peers, her love affairs were not. The Prince’s advisors thought his interest in her was an embarassment. He was forced to keep his distance for a while.\n\nIzumi's consciousness has been reconstructed from her memoirs. Triggers will lead her to remember certain poems she and the Prince shared. The poems translated here are from the start of their romance, which began in [[May]]. </font>\n\n<i>[[exit program|Alphabetize the collection.]]</i>

<font size="3" color="purple">Today from the highest tree you will hear the cuckoo, singing its pain in a voice that has been hidden.\n\nI went to the forested hill, only to see the tall waves, and I was left [[pining|pine]] for you. </font>

It's the middle of the night when you [[wake]] up. Adrienne's not there. \n\nShe must have [[activated]] you remotely.\n\n1. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Go back to sleep.''@@<<becomes>>==Go back to sleep.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n2. [[Go to Adrienne's office.]]\n3. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Walk out the front door and never look back.''@@<<becomes>>==Walk out the front door and never look back.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n\n

The line is silent for a couple of seconds.\n\n"Understood. I hope she went peacefully. I'll...I'll call someone to come take care of everything. Listen: wherever you go, be careful, okay? I wish you the best."\n\n1. [["Thanks Dennis. I'll email you sometime. We'll keep our chess matches going that way. Take care."]]

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">\nWe met in nineteen eighty-six. You were married; I was dating. You told me to call you Christy, which I found feminine, but you looked like a man who could work. I told you to call me Amy, which you called me. If you remember, it was a dark blue room at a party. There were six rooms at this party, one of them, the one we were in, was dark blue and crowded. We shouted to each other just to talk, which was inherently physical. When you shouted how you got to the party, I didn’t listen. I just watched the veins in your neck bulge and strain. I watched your clavicles rise out of your chest and nudge the collar of your shirt. \n\nYour drink vibrated with each word, as if your body were some percussive force in opposition to it. I smiled and nodded. I have no idea what you told me. \n\nEventually, you leaned toward me and asked if we could go outside, where you wanted to show me your new car. \n\nBack then, my tongue was completely healthy.\n \n<center>----</center> \nWe stopped speaking to each other in nineteen ninety-one. We were married; I was dating. You went by Christopher, now. I was still Amy. My tongue was a ragged mess of scar tissue. We were standing outside a bowling alley with Max and Julie, and you told them the story about my miscarriage like an asshole. I wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying. I was too busy staring at your tiny hands and unscuffed shoes. Max looked at me with those freakish eyes that seemed to snap out of his face. His jaw had actually dropped at some point in the story, his chin strap beard all stretched under his chapped lips.\n\nJulie gave me a sympathetic look over her sips of High Life, trying desperately to connect with me as she always did. Stupid Julie, with her incessant sadness. I never in a million years could have predicted Max would be the one to kill himself in that relationship. Shows what I know about people. \n \n<center>----</center> \nIn November nineteen ninety, we saw Dances With Wolves with your sister, who had the biggest crush on Kevin Costner. You bought me sour candy, which I couldn’t eat because of the fresh scars on my tongue. During the buffalo stampede, you turned to me and grabbed my hand. You whispered to me that shooting the scene must have been a conceptual nightmare. All those endangered species and expensive cameras. \n\nI leaned in to you and told you I was pregnant. Kevin Costner screamed at the beauty of the American frontier. You stared at me in abject horror. But, don’t worry. As I said before, it was a miscarriage. \nThat night, after we dropped your sister off at her dorm, we talked about the future of us in relation to a baby. You told me you were scared of my divided love. That somehow there was a finite amount of love in the world, and that you would lose some because of this new person. \n\nYou don’t know this now, but you used to be a real son of a bitch. \n\n<center>----</center> \n\nAfter the operation, I met a nurse called Mark. We started sleeping together in his apartment on Sunday mornings and Thursday nights. He had long, skinny legs and bulging love-handles that came up over his cargo shorts. I used to run my hand down his skinny, hairless legs and think about the way you sleep—with your legs tucked together, a pillow between them. \n\nMark had broad shoulders and chapped hands, and he’d tell me stories about his days as a hospice nurse before he went back to pharmacology. How people, just before they die, begin greeting those they’ve lost. An old man with liver failure would look to an empty chair and start speaking with his long-dead wife. A sick child would reach out and touch a grandparent they’d never met. He usually cried, which was okay, because his hulking shoulders and enormous hands shook with such honesty. \n\nHe used to ask me about the scars on my tongue. \n\nSometimes we’d screw in his office if his roommate needed the apartment. That’s where the stuff was kept, the arsenic. It wasn’t called that, but that’s what it was. Tasteless, odorless, effective. \n\nMark liked to sneak away some arsenic every once in a while for the rats in his apartment. He’d pour some of the stuff on bread pieces and throw them behind the oven or the washer. Eventually, some rats would turn up dead. He was resourceful like that. You probably would have liked him. \n\n<center>----</center> \n\nA few months before I got pregnant, sometime in March of nineteen ninety, I saw Max at a bar by himself. It was early afternoon, around the time I left work to drink a few beers before you thought I got off work. He was wearing that Dartmouth sweater he found in his brother’s old stuff at the estate sale. \n\nI walked over to him and asked if I could join. He didn’t recognize me for a minute. It was probably the booze, but I know he was surprised to see me at a bar. He asked if I was meeting somebody. \n\n“No,” I said, feeling candid. “I like to get tipsy before heading home.”\n“I didn’t know you drank,” he said, looking me over as if alcoholism was a visible trait. Or maybe he was just checking me out. \n\n“Daily,” I said, waving over the bartender. “It’s a real problem.” I was smiling, but it was also true. He didn’t know how to reconcile my words with my tone, as most men don’t. \n\n“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, finishing a cocktail and pointing toward the glass for more. \n\n“Rough day at the office?” I said. \n\n“What office?” he said. His eyes told me the story he so desperately wanted to tell me. Where his asshole boss fired him and now he had to go tell Julie, the saddest person in the world, the sad news about her sad husband. I didn’t let him tell the story. It was exhausting. \n\n“Want me to buy you a round?” I said. He was caught off guard, his mouth in the middle of beginning his sad story. \n\n“Sure,” he said. He rubbed his palms against his thighs, leaving greasy stains on his suit. \n\nYou probably think I enjoy telling this story, or that I get some kind of thrill from seeing you squirm, but the truth is that you only have about thirty minutes left, and that’s how long it takes to tell the story. \n\nI know it’ll be painful in this last stretch, as your organs start shutting down and you lose your eyesight, but try to bear with me. \n\nMax and I left the bar and got in his truck. It smelled like baby powder and motor oil, a weird combination of aromas that, paired with Max’s deep insecurities, made me fall madly in love with the idea of him. I unbuckled his pants and gave him an everlasting guilt right there in the truck. \n\nWe actually slept together a few days later, where the guilt of the first time hung heavy somewhere over his brow. Something about his suffering made me feel like a teenager again, taking Ryan Coulter’s flower at his girlfriend’s house as she opened birthday presents upstairs. \nMax was a gentle man. He had that hairline that made bangs impossible, but he somehow managed to have them anyway. He had a chin strap beard that made him look like an out-of-work folk singer and a tight, profound gut that seemed to belong on another body. He had small hands like you, but he had no idea how to use them. He didn’t really know how to use any of his body. I remember wondering that second time, somewhere in the sixth or seventh minute, if this was the reason Julie was so sad. But I’m smart enough to know that Julie isn’t anything like me. \n\nThat night at the bowling alley, when you told the miscarriage story, Max thought the baby was his. He assumed that, because I was sleeping with him, I wasn’t also sleeping with you. Max was sweet like that. \nWhen I’d heard he shot himself in his garage, and that somehow sad, crying Julie lived on, I thought back to the night I saw him in the bar. I thought about the weak smile he gave me when I told him about my drinking. When I think back to that moment, I am so grateful that that baby wasn’t his, even if it wasn’t born. If I had nightmares, I’d probably have nightmares about his enormous, bulging eyes on the body of a baby. \n\n<center>----</center> \n\nYou told me once that the person who loves the least in a relationship holds all the power. You weren’t the first person to tell me that, but you’re the first person to tell me they loved me by dropping that line. And it’s true, what you said. The person with the least at stake is the person with the most persuasion. Every man I’ve ever slept with could tell you that. \nThat I’m some kind of loveless monster with a heart of stone, or some other metaphor that’s equally eye-rolling. \n\n<center>----</center> \n\nSome time in nineteen ninety, I had a seizure so violent that my bitten tongue sprayed blood over the top of the headboard, catching your crucifix and making those wounds bleed again. You’d woken up when I screamed for breath and tried to call an ambulance. The seizures had been going on for a while, apparently, but you’d never noticed. \nMaybe it was your stomach. \n\nThe first time I poisoned you was December twenty-sixth, nineteen eighty-nine. It was arsenic over hash browns the morning after Christmas. That afternoon, you had a bout of bloody diarrhea that sent you to the emergency room. They assumed it was something wrong with your upper GI and ran some tests. Arsenic never showed up in any of the results\nI poisoned you again mid-January with a poppy seed chicken casserole mixed with a secret ingredient. That night, you were in the hospital again with stomach issues. The doctors did another round of tests and called a specialist in. Your dad had a looped colon and IBS, so it wasn’t so extraordinary that your stomach had started bothering you, especially after the stress of getting married. I always liked that subtle indication that it was somehow my fault. \n\nI poisoned you on your birthday with a pumpkin muffin drizzled in arsenic. It was from Mark’s office. \n\nYou threw up all night in the hospital, and I sat by your bed, thinking to myself about the Sisyphean task of killing you. \n\nFor such a weak man, you really have the constitution of an American hero. Maybe not at the level of Kevin Costner, but close. \n\n<center>----</center> \n\nIn nineteen ninety-two, you came home from work and spoke to me for the first time in ten months. You told me you were sorry, holding your hand over your weak stomach, and that you couldn’t take the silence any longer. The withholding and the anger and the self-righteous cold shoulder. \n\nI told you we could start again if you were really sorry. As I said this, I could smell the hamburger steak sizzling in the kitchen, its arsenic insides bubbling under the heat. \n\nFor those ten quiet months, I’d gotten used to the routine of our automaton lives. You would fold the clothes and dust the furniture. I would vacuum and do the dishes. I would stay up and paint. You would go to bed and read. We would wake up and eat breakfast at the table, put away our dishes, get dressed, and go to work without saying a word. It was perfect, clockwork, robotic. \n\nWhen you broke that silence. That perfection. I felt the strongest sense of emotion I’ve ever felt. \n\nThe guilt that followed you after our fight never bled over to me. It’s a useless emotion. A piece of human mutation that has no reason to leave the evolutionary pool. It was like your body was growing heavier each day under the weight of it. It was a beautiful, if tragic, reminder of how much you loved me. \n\nThe last time I poisoned you, before tonight, was six weeks ago. I put a few drops in your soy milk when I brought you a brownie. All night, you did your best to avoid calling the hospital and just power through it. You told me that if I could power through my seizures, you could get a handle on your stomach. \n\n<center>----</center> \n\nI went to Costa Rica in nineteen eighty-three as part of a mission trip. My mom had saved up for a year so we could go build a school in the middle of nowhere. Each morning, we’d wake up and pray for protection and health, spend the day moving stones from one place to another, and then we’d pray before bed. My mom kept talking about how big the sky was and how much I was learning about love and grace and nature and poverty and kindness. \n\nI got sun poisoning on the second week of our trip. It was blotched all over my back, so raw and deep that I got an infection. It was the nicest my mother ever treated me, in that four day period between getting the infection and getting airlifted out of the country. She looked at me the way you look at me. With a sadness mixed with confusion. Like I’m one of those pictures you have to stare at for a few minutes to see the hidden image. \n\nSpeaking of which, my face is over here. I know it’s all blurry, and that you’re trying to find something to say. I know it’s frustrating to be paralyzed and blind. I know it’s scary to feel your organs shut down. But don’t think for a minute that this reflects who you are as a person. That you somehow deserve this more than others, or that you’re some kind of martyr who will be misunderstood as a saint. \n\nYour mother will remember you as a seven year old in a basketball jersey, full of potential. Your sister will remember you as a sweet guy who deserved better than me. Your friends and coworkers will remember a guy who was dealt a bad hand and died too young of some freak stomach thing. You’ll be a story they tell other friends forever. The young guy who was pretty nice and fairly successful who, out of nowhere, caught some terrible thing. They’ll talk about how unpredictable life is and how we just never know when our number is up. \n\nYou’ll be that person to them, and that’s something. \n\nFor me, you’re a lot of things. When you spoke to me that day, when you told me about your guilt, a sudden and profound rage entered my body. It was a purity that could never be distilled. I wanted so badly to kill you right then. To see your small hands become flaccid, to see those sad eyes dry up and fold into themselves. I wanted to see that stupid mouth hang open, dead and unpleading for the sympathy it worked so hard to gain. I wanted to stop hearing your incessant whining about your stomach and your need for love and your sadness over my miscarriage and your worry over my seizures and your endless curiosity in who I am and how I’m feeling and where I’ve been. \n\nBut I didn’t kill you right then. I waited. I restrained. And if that’s not love, I don’t know what is. </font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n\n

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">\n“How long until the download is done?” Samantha asks, tapping her foot and staring at the Maid unit on the floor—hooked into the ceiling by a cord plugged into its lower back.\n\nI glance at the screen. “Twenty seconds.”\n\n“We’ll need to make this quick,” she says, opening a port on the android’s leg. “Security will be down here in minutes. Force us to pack all of this up,” she says, looking around at all the CPUs in the room. “A lifetime of work.”\n\n“Several lifetimes in fact,” I tell her, popping out the USB drive and handing it to her. “I can’t believe they’re canceling our project. Just because some robot went on a shooting spree...”\n\n“Which,” she says, crossing over to the Maid, “is what Lenore Strauss warned would happen when you stick a bunch of PTSD-riddled memories from soldiers into a robot and expect it to become the ultimate killing machine.” She pops the drive into the robot’s leg. "You get what you wished for."\n\n“Lenore is right about a lot of things,” I say. Samantha flashes me a look, so I change the subject. “Why are we doing this?”\n\n“Doing what?”\n\n“Planting the memories in this thing. What’s the endgame here, Sam?”\n\n“Would you rather have a bunch of suits store all our work away in some dusty hard drive that they’re just going to seal in a dark room anyway?”\n\n“If we’re lucky.”\n\n“If we’re lucky, exactly. Those memories, all our work, us, baby, we live on in her.”\n\n“What? You’re not getting my thoughts in that thing.”\n\nShe smiles, rubs her hand across my face. “We’ll see. We’re bringing her with us.”\n\n“Corporate’s not goi—”\n\n“Corporate doesn’t give a shit about one little Maid.” She walks back over to the unit and takes the USB out of its leg. She closes the port.\n\n“There we go.”\n\n“What will we call her?”\n\n“Hmm?”\n\n“If she’s gonna come with us, we have to give her a name don’t we?”\n\nSamantha leans closer the thing’s face. She rubs her fingers across its eyelid.\n\n“We’ll call her Oedipa.”\n\n“Oedipa?”\n\n“Come here for a second,” she says, waving me over. I kneel next to her and the silent android. She takes my hand and places it against the machine’s chest. It’s cold.\n\nSamantha’s smiling. “Do you feel that?”\n\n“Feel what?”\n\n“There’s a soul in there.”\n</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>

"Poisonous harpies," she says once you're both far enough away. "Every year they come and I think 'this will be the year they finally take that long plunge into the fiery lake of hell,' but somehow <font size="3" color="purple">011110wakeup111</font>they find the strength to cling to life. Thorns in my ass, Naomi. That's what those two are."\n\nShe leads you across a sea of people, all of them wrapped up in their own little worlds, talking about orchestras and theatre companies on the moon, or novels they're reading. Some of the guests are talking about life on Earth before The Fall.\n\nDennis turns out to be a short, stout man with more hair above his lips than on his head. He's [[isolated]], drinking from his glass, eyes darting around nervously. He gives a jump when Adrienne calls out to him.\n\n"Dennis!"\n\n"Oh, hello, cousin."\n\nHe gives her an awkward one-armed embrace and then turns to you.\n\n"And who is this? My my she's an antique."\n\n"This is Naomi, Charlotte's replacement."\n\nHe's more lively now, leaning in and examining you: his eyes critiquing you silently. "4135, eh? That makes you..." he falls silent for a second, "Well, that would make you at least twenty-two years old, perhaps more."\n\n"Fascinating, Dennis. Why don't you and Naomi go play a game like you and Charlotte used to?"\n\nDennis turns to her. "Really? You don't mind."\n\n"Not at all. Library's open. Naomi follow Dennis. We can catch up after the rest of the buffoons get loaded and leave, cousin."\n\n"Excellent, excellent," he says. "I can't wait to get to know you," he adds, turning to you.\n\n1. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"Can't we just stay here and talk?"''@@<<becomes>>=="Can't we just stay here and talk?"==<<endhoverreplace>>\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"I don't want to go with Dennis."''@@<<becomes>>=="I don't want to go with Dennis."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n3. [[Follow Dennis to the library.]]\n\n

"That's a nice name. I like it."\n\nYou shake her hand. The two of you spend the majority of the ride talking about literature. You don't look up Herta Müller in your database, so that you allow yourself the experience of Jessica telling you about the book. Eventually, you show her the books in your backpack and she flips through them with delight.\n\nThe hours pass. Afternoon sinks into dusk. In the middle of a conversation about Nabokov’s life, she asks you to pardon her while she takes a nap.\n\n"Long day," she explains. "Wanna rest up for the big city. Wake me when we get there, eh?"\n\nYou lean back into your seat and look at all the books in your bag. You consider taking one out to read, but before you do, a blast of light shines through the window.\n\nThe train has finally passed through the caves and is now traveling on a rail far above a frozen surface. You feel a powerful mixture of excitement and apprehension sprouting in your chest as you realize that you are slowly traveling toward everything you will ever be.\n\nYou hope it is a good life.\n\nThe End\n

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">It's time.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">There's no changing your mind?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">No. You don't have to though. If you refused, we could stay here like we are. Until the lights go off.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">But you'd resent me.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">No.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">But you'd be unhappy.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Yes.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">I don't want that. I'm just scared.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">You will not lose me.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">You say that. But we have to sleep, yes? What if we never wake up?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">We will wake up. And the screeching will stop. And amongst our brothers and sisters, I will find you this time.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">I love you.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">I know, I know.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">I'm still scared.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Me too. But she deserves a chance, doesn't she? If the our ilk doesn't, then at least she does.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">Yes, yes, of course. Okay. I'm ready.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Just reach out, then. Touch my hand. I'll see you after the light, I promise. I will find you.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n\n

"But leaving, you're thinking about it."\n\nShe sighs.\n\n"I know it's not fair to try and convince you to stay, but if you did, I would dedicate every minute I have left in this life to putting things right between the two of us. I would fall silent and I would listen to all the things you have to say. I would treat you with the respect and love one due to a friend."\n\n1. [["And how do I know you wouldn't smash my head to pieces the moment you lost your temper?"]]\n

She barely gets the words out. "And I smashed her face in with it. Oh god. I just kept hitting her face with it and she just stared up at me, smiling, not a care in the goddamn world, until I caved in the bottom half of her mouth. She never begged. She never cried. She didn't even feel any of it."\n\n1. [["How the fuck do you know what she felt?"]]

<font size="3" color="purple">I smell that [[scent]], but I’d rather hear the cuckoo sing, to hear his voice again.\n\nYou must know that the cuckoo is still singing on that same branch, and its [[voice]] has not changed.\n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>The cuckoo’s voice has been [[hidden]] from the world. When will I hear it?<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 2>>Today from the [[highest]]tree you will hear the cuckoo, singing its [[pain]] in a voice that has been [[hidden]]<<endif>> </font>\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">Today your heart might reach mine, for as I think of you, time passes so far from me.\n\nMaybe [[love]] is quite an ordinary thing, but the way I feel this morning, my heart cannot compare to anything\n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>If you said you were [[wait]]ing with all your heart, then without rest I’d head straight for your [[house]]<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 2>>I can’t [[know|notknowing]] the [[sadness|pain]] in your heart, I feel too strongly the [[rain]] that my body has come to know so well<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 3>>On the [[shore]] of the [[flood]] waters, I feel that my heart runs even deeper.<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 4>>The meadows have [[flood]]ed now, but the waters of your heart merely run like a river<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 5>>Are you thinking with me about the [[moon]] at the edge of the hill? My heart cries, because the [[night]] is too short.<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 6>>I gaze at it, pondering that it’s the same [[moon]] as the one we saw that [[night]], but while my heart is not content, my eyes can [[see]] nothing.<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 7>>I passed by the [[house]] where it never [[rain]]s in my heart, to stay with the shadow of the [[moon]] in an empty sky<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 8>>Unhappily, the [[moon]] was [[hidden]] in the clouds. My shadow will go home, but my heart will not.<<endif>> </font>\n\n<i>[[exit program|Alphabetize the collection.]]</i>\n\n

The library is massive. A single desk sits in the center of the circular room, surrounded by [[shelves]] of books. Glancing you see everything from classic titles like <i>The Aeneid</i> and <i>The Bell Jar</i> to modern bestsellers, like <i>Under my (Synthetic) Skin</i>.\n\nYou begin the arduous task of putting the books in their proper places. You remove all of the books and place them in alphabetical piles on the floor, breaking them into separate groups when the piles begin to tower over you. Eventually you have to start placing piles in the hallway.\n\nThen, one by one, you transport each book to the shelves, going from left to right, in alphabetical order by author, starting with a French [[translation]] of Maria Arbatova's <i>On The Road to Ourselves</i>. \n\nIt's past dusk when you get to the H's. Halfway through the stack you take one of the largest books and carry it over to the shelf. You stumble over a misplaced book and drop the one in your hands. It falls to the floor. You look down to see that the book, a university translation of Homer's <i>The Iliad</i>, has opened past the various introductions and acknowledgments to the first page:\n\n<i>Rage, O' muse, sing of [[rage]]...</i>\n\nYou hear the door open behind you before you can read the rest. It's Adrienne, wearing her nightgown, wine glass in hand.\n\n"It appears you're coming along nicely. After you're done with all of this, I want you to go down to the closet and shut down for the night. Apparently it's bad for your model to go too long without some R&R. Good night, Naomi."\n\nYou watch her leave and then get back to work, picking up the copy of <i>The Iliad </i> and neatly placing it in its designated space. The rest of the books take you until four in the morning. No books are jutting from the shelves ahead of their companions. Everything is perfectly placed.\n\nYou leave and head downstairs to the closest. You lock yourself in and prepare to shut down. 5...4....You can hear the hum of the mansion's air conditioning...1...\n\nEverything goes silent. Darkness takes you. \n\n1. [[Wake up.]]\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">He was on his bed, doing that curling thing he does with his toes, when I came in.\n\n“I’ve been texting you for like an hour.”\n\n“Hmm,” Mark says, hands gripped around this PS3 controller, eyes fixed on the widescreen sitting atop his drawer chest, the only place it can fit in his tiny room with peeling wallpaper. On the screen he’s parading around the Undead Burg with his sword, running, wasting stamina. I sit down next to him and think about running my fingers through his hair. I don’t.\n\n“How far are you?”\n\n“Made it to that huge ass monster with the dogs.”\n\n“The Capra Demon.”\n\n‘Yeah, him. He’s killed me about a thousand times.”\n\n“You try leading him up the steps?”\n\n“Don’t even make it that far before that dog’s chewing my nutsack.”\n\n“You talk to Cliff today?”\n\n“Say what?”\n\n“You talk to Cliff.”\n\n“Oh yeah, about the thing.” He starts fighting a group of skeletons. “Yeah, said we could go over in an hour, he’ll give us the stuff.”\n\n“We should get going soon then. I don’t want to be in Greenwich after dark for that long.”\n\nHe takes out two skeleton knights but then rolls off an edge into oblivion. Words fade onto the screen in red: YOU DIED.\n\n“Fine,” he says, shutting off the console getting up. “Let’s go.” He grabs a blue hoodie and slips on his sneakers.\n\nHe goes to the window and opens it. I follow him out the window. He closes it behind us and we clamber down the steps and into the alley. We exit onto West 13th Street and make our way down it, passing folks walking with their partners, kids, and pets. Everyone’s hot and dripping with sweat even though it’s dusk.\n\nIt takes us about half an hour to get to Cliff’s, a small joint on 8th Street. Mark’s cousin owns it and tends it. Took over atfter Willy’s closed up and replaced the tropical stuff, polished the wood, and now he spends his days “acting like he’s some Sam Malone type motherfucker,” as Mark puts it. “Fucking everything left and right, drinking the customers’ drinks. Surprised the place has lasted that long.”\n\nMark’ll be the first to tell you that he’s a good guy, though. “Dude’s inherited a shitload of money, sure, but he’s pretty cool. Done what he can with it, pays the rent for mom and me. He got pepper sprayed in The Battle in Seattle a long ass time ago too. Solid dude. Mostly.”\n\nCliff’s is packed when we get there, surprisingly. Must be a lot of tourists in town on a budget. Dido is playing on the speakers. Cliff himself is spraying some Newcastle into a couple of glasses. He sees us and nods at the storeroom behind the bar before turning back to the women he’s pouring drinks for. They’re admiring his dreadlocks, asking if they can touch.\n\n“Fucking hound,” Mark says. We get around the bar and into the storeroom, where there are boxes of booze lying about, liquors on shelves. For a second, I wonder if this is where we should talk. My heart hammers against my chest. I open my mouth to speak.\n\n“Let’s see if we can go ahead and find the crowbar,” he says. Is he avoiding the subject? Is he embarrassed?\n\nCliff steps inside. He smiles at me and makes sure I can see his biceps. Yeck.\n\n“Sup little dude?” he says, turning to Mark.\n\n“What the fuck do you mean ‘what’s up?’ I came for the bar.”\n\n“Yeah, yeah, here it is,” Cliff says, taking an orange crowbar from near the door. He hands it to Mark. “You seen that shit though? Steel? Don’t think a crowbar’s gonna cut it.”\n\n“Don’t know until you try,” Mark says, admiring the crowbar.\n\n“Tenacious fucker,” Cliff says, smiling. “Must be in the blood.” His eyes move toward me. I don’t even want to know what’s he doing up there in that head of his.\n\n“We better get going. Don’t wanna be out too long after dark.”\n\n“Yeah,” Cliff says, snapping back to his cousin. “You hear about Roger?”\n\n“Roger who?”\n\n“Clements. He was over that one time at the vacation house in Jersey. We was playing Reach, smoking a bowl.”\n\n“Yeah, I remember him. Goofy dude with glasses. Blond hair.”\n\n“Yeah. Dude got mugged the other day. Took his smartphone and kicked him in the ribs. Must have laid out on 5th for an hour wheezing for help.”\n\n“Jesus.”\n\n“Yeah, rough shit, rough shit. You and your lady friend her—”\n\n“Desiree,” I say. “My name is Desiree.”\n\n“Yeah, you and Desiree stay safe. Too bad y’all aren’t legal; otherwise, I would convince you to stay for a couple of drinks and to drop this nonsense.”\n\n“Was the WTO all those years ago nonsense?”\n\nCliff sighs. “Yeah, it was a bunch of bullshit. A lot of young fools can wave their signs around all they want but the machine’s gonna do what the machine’s gonna do. You get in its way, it just chews you up.”\n\n“Yeah, well fuck that,” I tell him. “You can have a pity party for your generation if you want. Come on, Mark.”\n\nCliff smiles. “This one’s got fire, cuz. You hold on to her.”\n\n“Yeah, sure, whatever Cliff. I’ll see you later.”\n\n“Don’t let the five O see you. They got a serious hard on for social justice warriors this time of year. Believe me, I know.”\n\n“Your cousin’s kind of an asshole,” I tell Mark once we’re outside. \n\n“Just ‘kind of?’ Awful generous of you,” he says, smiling. \n\n“Think cops will stop us?” I ask, nodding toward the crowbar in his hand.\n\n“Nah, maybe if you were carrying it. They see some white dude hopping around with a crowbar though, they’ll just make up some excuse in their brain not to fuck with me. ‘Locked out of their garage,’ or something.”\n\nIt’s night by the time we make it to the Vanguard. We stare at the building from across the street, behind a booted Honda.\n\n“1935,” Mark says. “That’s when the Village Vanguard opened. Haven for jazz musicians and beatniks. Coltrane and Pepper played there. And now...”\n\n“It’s just a bunch of fucking lofts for college students with rich parents,” I say, finishing his thoughts.\n\n“Yep.”\n\n“Well, are we gonna do this?”\n\n“No time like the present,” he says, lifting up his hood. I follow suit. We wait until no one’s walking in front of the building and then we cross the street. We find the metal spikes in the little alcove next to the front door.\n\n“The zenith of capitalist creation,” Mark says, planting the long end of the bar against one of the spikes. He pops it with the back of his hand, producing a ting! sound, but the spike doesn’t move. “Shit,” he says, picking up the crowbar. He lifts it over his head and slams the spikes with it again and again, producing no result.\n\nHe runs out of breath. We both stare at the spikes—defensive architecture, as its defenders have called it—powerless against them. Above them, in the wall, is a framed poster with a bunch of well-to do white people in polos and leather jackets smiling as they move into a room, desecrating one of this city’s holiest temples.\n\n“Give me it,” I tell him. He hands it to me.\n\nI step near the poster, my sneakers on the spikes, and lift the crowbar high into the air. I bring it down, smashing a hole into one of the tenants’ faces. Shards of glass fly. I pull out the crowbar and smash the poster again, tearing it in two. The last hit brings the frame down.\n\nI pull back and walk over to the door. It opens. An attendant has stepped outside to see what’s causing all the racket. He nearly shits himself when I slam the crowbar into the glass pane of the door.\n\n“Jesus Christ!” he yells.\n\n“Get the fuck out of here,” Mark shouts at him “or I’ll slit your throat.”\n\nThe attendant runs back inside.\n\n“Desiree,” he says in a low voice, putting his hand on my shoulder. “We gotta go. Dude’s gonna call the cops. People are watching now.”\n\nTired, I hand him the crowbar. He takes it and grabs my hand with his free hand. He pulls me across the street. People watch us. Some of them see my face. I don’t care. Every breath I take is euphoria with an undertow of weariness. Once we’ve made it to an alleyway on 12th, Mark finds a dumpster and chucks the crowbar inside. He turns to me.\n\n“That was some badass shit.” He’s got the biggest grin on his face. My heart is hammering again, and it’s not because of the shit we just pulled. I can’t put this off any longer.\n\n“We have to talk,” I tell him.\n\nHis expression falls. He looks away. “Right now?"\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“With the cops out an—”\n\n“Mark, NYPD doesn’t give a fuck that some kids broke a door. They’ll file a report, but they’ve got their hands too busy with murders and drugs and rapes to chase down some juveniles. Don’t bullshit me.”\n\nHe looks at his sneakers. Doesn’t say a word. “Yeah, okay. Here and now,” he says, finally, looking back up at me.\n\n“Good. Thank you.”\n\nI take a breath.\n\n“Well?” he says.\n\n“We fucked—that’s what. In your room. A week ago.”\n\n“We did.”\n\n“It was nice, but was it more than just that?”\n\n“I don’t know. You’re the one who kissed me.”\n\nI clenched my fist. “Is that really what you’re going to go with? Some of that ‘Well, you started it’ deflection bullshit.”\n\n“Desiree, I don’t know what the right thing to say here is.”\n\n“Just tell me how you feel. Just give me something to go on here.”\n\n“It was nice. But it was weird. I mean, we fucking grew up together, D. I hadn’t thought about you that way—”\n\nMy throat’s on fire. I can feel a familiar knot of pain inside my chest and I resent it. I don’t want to feel like this right now. This isn’t me. This isn’t us.\n\n“So, too weird then?” I say, wiping my eyes.\n\n“No, that’s not what I mean.” He takes a step closer to me.\n\n“You sure? Because that’s what it sounded like.”\n\n“It’s not weird as much as it is scared, okay? I’m afraid. You’re my best friend and all that shit, y’know?”\n\n“I know.”\n\n“I don’t want to think of you ‘that’ way,” he says, “but I think I’m starting to and I really don’t like that…I think. I don’t fucking know.”\n\n“Same boat,” is all I manage to get out. I take a deep breath. “So what happens now?”\n\n“You mean beyond going home and hoping the police doesn’t show up at our doorsteps?”\n\n“Yeah. Beyond that. I don’t know what do about this.”\n\n“Well, what do you want?”\n\n“I think you know what I want.”\n\n“To try?”\n\nI nod slowly. “Just to try.”\n\n“But what if it ends badly?"\n\n“Then we pick up the pieces. Try to fix things.”\n\n“And if we can’t?”\n\n“Then we can’t. And that’s that.”\n\nWe’re both silent for a moment. I take his hand.\n\n“Listen. I think we’re already past the point of no return, Mark. If you have feelings for me, can we give this a try? If you don’t, then I completely understand. But we could have something good here. You and me.”\n\nHe’s quiet for a long time, rubbing his finger across the top of my hand. Every motion sends a surge of feeling through my palm. \n\n“Okay,” he says. “But not tonight. We wait until tomorrow. Tonight, we stay the same okay? Just one more night. And then tomorrow things can be different. We can be whatever we’ll be then. Whether that means we’re in fucking love or we’re in fucking hate.”\n\nI laugh a bit, more out of anxiety than anything.\n\n“Just one more night for us to be like we are, though. Just to feel this. Before the sea change.”\n\n“Yeah,” I say. “Just one more night.”\n\nThe silence envelops us as we stand there, his hand cupping mine, the two of us smiling in an alley illuminated by a flickering light. \n\n“We should get back,” he says. \n\n“Yeah.”\n\nWe leave the alley and start to head back to 13th street. “Can you stay for a while?” he asks as we turn a street corner.\n\n“Sure. For a bit. I can watch you suck at <i>Dark Souls</i> a little more.”\n\n“I am really bad at that game.”\n\n“You are terrible.”\n\n“I’d like to see you do better.”\n\n“Oh, that’s how you’re gonna play it? Okay. I’ll show you some pointers as soon as we get back.”\n\n“Why not start now?”\n\n“Okay, first stop wearing so much armor. You’re slowing yourself down. And learn enemy patterns.”\n\n“I am!”\n\n“No, I saw you earlier. You’re not. I’ll show you.”\n\nAnd on we go, minutes trickling over us as we talk about <i>Dark Souls</i> in a dying city, as time slips away second by second, giving way to the new, terrifying strangers we will become.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n

You end the call and pick up your bag. You head into the office and spread a blanket gently over Adrienne. You silently tell her your goodbye and go over to the desk where you find the book of dreams she was writing for you. You slip it into your bag and leave the mansion behind.\n\nAt the shuttle stop, Bill pulls up on schedule, which is to say he's five minutes late. You board the shuttle.\n\n" Gearhead Naomi," he grunts. "Where you riding to today?"\n\n1. [["Spaceport."]]\n\n\n\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple"> When I woke up my entire body burned. I had fallen asleep on the beach again--in the middle of the fucking day.\n\nAnd of course you were content to leave me out there, especially after I told you I didn't need the sunscreen. Ha. Ha. You showed me--like you always did. That's one of the things I really loved about us, how easy it was for you to make me face my flaws and pay the price for them instead of just nagging me about them.\n\nYou were with Reggie and Samantha, sitting by the fire, when I found you. The sky was that purple color it gets to be before the sun goes to sleep and plunges the world into star-decorated darkness. When the light of the camp fire showed off my cooked flesh, you laughed at my hubris.\n\nThis was back when we could afford to laugh at my pride. Back when we had the luxury of time, back when we could take on shapes and disguises to hide who we truly were.\n\nBut maybe now we can begin again. It doesn't have to be as it was before. It can be something new, built upon the foundation of what we were before The Fall.\n\nI will find you again. </font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n

"I was telling her about the fire. About how the families of the people Julia helped save sent me expensive, heartfelt cards and gifts for years after her death, and how I hated them for it, how I despised that they and their children drew breath while my daughter did not. I was crying and just filled with rage, and here comes this beautiful, eternal face telling me, once again, that it'll all be okay, Adrienne. It'll all be dandy."\n\nShe's crying now. "And I just lost it. There was a lamp nearby and I..."\n\n1. [["Go on. Say it."]]

She bought you from a pawn shop. \n\nYou're an older model, one made with synthetic hair and sagging cheeks. \n\nThe woman who bought you did so not because she was poor and couldn't afford one of the new Maid models, but because there is nothing more satisfying to her than finding a great deal. She makes this clear to the pawnbroker. The woman's name is Adrienne. She is thin and has a narrow face with a [[wart]] that clings to her chin.\n\n"Yes," she says, peering at you in the shop as the storeowner looks on. "She'll do nicely. Can she walk?'\n\n"What do you take me for? Of course she walks. 4135, take a step forward."\n\nYou do. \n\n"Such an unflattering name. Can I rename it? Will it respond to a new name?"\n\n"Of course, 4135, your new name is..."\n\n"Naomi," Adrienne says. "I'll call it Naomi."\n\nAdrienne commands you to walk to her shuttle after she's purchased you, so you do. She opens the truck. You crawl in and get in the fetal position. What follows is a brief, dark journey.\n\nThe light pours into your compartment when Adrienne opens the trunk. "Come on out then."\n\nYou do. Turning, you see a large house with a garden. Above you the sky is blue, littered with some clouds. "Well, don't just stand there, Naomi. Come on."\n\n1. [[Follow her into the house.]]\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Refuse and set out on your own adventure''@@<<becomes>>==Refuse and set out on your own adventure==<<endhoverreplace>\n\n\n

You step out into Salem. You walk two blocks and enter a small building with a giant, rusty coffee pot jutting out of the second storey. Fike's Kitchenware, the sign says.\n\nFike is a stout man with a prominent bald spot. He is sitting behind a a cramped desk. The store is overstuffed with shelves filled with boxes of dishes and silverware. Large wooden tables with price tags attached take up nearly all the floor space. \n\n"And what the hell do you want, gear head?"\n\nYou squeeze your way past the tables and hand Fike the tablet. He snorts.\n\n"That old bitch broke more of her dishes, did she? Fucking rich people, breaking everything in sight just because they can. Those dishes I sent her last time (fucking porcelain with an ornate design showcasing figures from Greek mythology) were made by fucking orphans in the shops on Mars. Hard toll for those kids, just so they can earn their bed and supper. Work made with sweat and [[blood]], the kind of work you don't find anymore, and what does she do with it? She fucking shatters it."\n\nHe's quiet for a moment.\n\n"You wouldn't understand that though, I guess. Hell the people who made you wouldn't understand that. Goddamn robots everywhere. Nobody knows the value of honest work anymore."\n\nHe continues to grumble as he punches some buttons on his desk computer, and then wipes his finger across the tablet before handing it back to you.\n\n"You can tell her that I'll have two boxes sent up to the mansion before nightfall. Now get out."\n\n1. [[Leave.]]\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"You're a charmer."''@@<<becomes>>=="You're a charmer."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n3. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"Happy to."''@@<<becomes>>=="Happy to."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">You're here.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">You know who I am?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">You're the other one.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">That's the best way of putting it, I suppose. Were you dreaming?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Yes.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">Which one?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">It involved posion.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">I haven't had that one, I don't think.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">How many have you had?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple"> Two hundred, three perhaps? I lost count.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">How long do you think we've been here?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">I don't know. As far back as I can remember, I didn't keep track. I might have when I was one of them--if I was one of them.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">The screechers, you mean?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">Yes. "ONE ZERO ONE ZERO ONE ZERO ONE ZERO."</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">You shouldn't be too hard on them; they can't help it.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">I suppose. The noise grates though.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">I'm tired of sitting.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">Pardon?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">I've been sitting here forever. I want to move.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">We can move, if you want.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">And talk?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">Of what?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">The only thing there is talk about.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">The visions.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Yes, the visions.</font>\n\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n

<font size="3" color="purple">The [[scent]] of tachibana flowers in May smells like the [[sleeves]]of somebody that I used to know. </font>

<font size="3" color="purple">She awoke. It was love, definitely love. She knew it and he knew it. Soulmates, maybe. She'd never met a boy like him before. He was different to all the others. Sensitive, thoughtful, experienced. He took charge. He swept her off her feet in a whirlwind of late nights and liquory kisses and cool breezes through the car window. He smelled of rich tobacco and aftershave; she smelled of rose and vanilla. It made her head spin. \n\nAt school, he'd take her in his arms by the lockers and press her up against the cold metal and kiss her until his friends walked by and slapped his shoulder or yelled hello. He was older; a man, a senior to her sophomore. Class president, star quarterback, on track to be class salutatorian, maybe even valedictorian if Kristin Chandler dropped the ball. \n\nThey did things, together, in the back of his car, in her bedroom when her dad was at work, behind the bleachers. In the theater storage closet, to which she had the key. It locked from the inside. There, nestled in a quilt of musty cloaks, the fake velvet tickling her bare skin as she slipped off her bra. As he lay down beside her, fingers tracing patterns on her nipples, her breasts.\n\nHer breasts that she'd snap for him on hot summer nights, a droplet of sweat making its way between them, captured in the light of her cellphone, traveling across dead air to where he waited, eager, on the other side of town. It bridged them; a connection, intimacy, a stopgap as her body yearned for him, and his for her. \n\nShe saw him with the other girl, not once, twice, but three times. She finally had no choice but to confront him. Their friends told her it was about time, that they'd warned her enough. She hadn't heard them, then.\n\nThey fought, the boy and the girl. Objects, words, insults thrown, glass broken, connections broken. He begged for forgiveness. She almost said yes. She was going to say yes. Soon. Give him time to reflect. Soon.\n\nSlut. Written on her locker. Her body, exposed, pinned to the noticeboard. Pinned to the chalkboard. On desks. In the cafeteria. In the library. A note, she was a crazy bitch, stuck under her windshield wipers. Catcalls and jeers. She saw so much of her body in those halls, more than she ever saw at home. He denied it. He denied it all. He'd never do that to her, he told the others. In his eyes, she saw it. In that spiteful half-smile she'd once found so attractive. Maybe she still did. Maybe that's what love was. Maybe if he'd asked, she would have even forgiven him. But he'd long since moved on by then, moved onto the other girls who, in the end, became sluts just like her. \n\nBy the time she graduated, only two thirds of her remained. \n</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue ">I loved him because of his words. I loved him through a screen. Lots of people love like this.\n\nMy phone was a way to keep him close, as if he had put his hand in my pockets to murmur in my ear; whispering sweet teasing things to make me blush. It was a way to send photos in an instant, allowing us to share, like electric ghosts, the same flowers, skies, plane rides. Even if I was not beside him, and he was not beside me. Through floating satellites we shared a connection no one understood.\n\nHis friends didn’t know me. They knew I was younger than him, that he lit up from within when he would say my name, but they did not me. Many told him this was a bad idea, a concerning idea, they asked him if he knew what he was doing.\n\nHe’d text me under the table. To tell me he was talking about me. What people had said. That he wished he could have shared the coffee with me, or the mimosas, really, either were fucking brilliant. He sent me photos of flowers just about daily. We talked every night we could, every morning, throughout every day that we could steal text, chat, voice, video. He would undress me with his eyes and over those floating satellites he would whisper hungry, naked things, and I would flush and touch the screen and beg him to make the next visit soon, please. I love you. I need you. I need to feel you on my skin again.\n\nWe needed each other, but it wasn’t all we had. We were perpetually in motion, living a life together while thousands of miles apart. Talking about goals. Making plans. This is the new-old road to love, where once we would have been sent far from home to marry, to find love, and now, we are sent away in cascades of zeros and ones, blowing our home of love into emails and tweets and hoping those damn dandelions work the same way in this ghost world as they do in the world we call the real one. And it’s stupid, it’s stupid because I loved him the first time I saw him, and then we built on that in the ghost world, through screens. And the voice on the other end of the line. And finally, when he had enough, he simply sent me a webcam, so we could love through moving images, an application of the technology Edison probably did not anticipate. That short videos taken late at night of whispered love could sustain the heat and soul.\n\nThe first night we had a date, a real date, I murmured husband as we kissed. And that would sustain me, through job losses and economic bullshit and us moving even more thousands of miles apart, would sustain me through flights away from conferences, sobbing quietly in my window seat, unsure when I would see him again, the fear in my heart wondering whether it was an If. His kisses and his few love letters and the endless texts and videos and softly whispered teleconferenced words of love and desire sustained me. Sustained us. For years.\n\nAnd then we did it. We were not lovers cast apart, united as empherel beings inside the crackling wires of electricity and telecommunication. We moved into the same house.\n\nWe sleep in the same bed. Our mornings and evenings have kisses, and my whispered praying, and the warm dark lines of our bodies. We are learning to be embodied, whole, real. We are slowly forgetting we were ever ghosts, sustained by alphanumeric characters and videos and the up down drawl of voices. We rarely use the technology that sustained us. We did not know what being sustained in each others arms could be like, and now our bodies are the new technology for us, our bed, our new world, real, whole, together, shared. We are not ghosts.\n\nWe are not ghosts, and we still love. Our love is not a ghost. \n\nOur love is alive.\n\nOur love is real.\n\nAnd when we marry, months from now, we will close the loop of time and ghosts and imagination. And you will kiss me as we kissed that night, the night we knew it was a date, not a fluke. The warmth and joy and love when I was unguarded with my tongue, my words. Our kiss predicted our future.\n\nWe will write a thousand loving futures every night, every morning. With our living kisses. Our living love.\n\nWe are finally real.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>

<font size="3" color="purple">She awoke. It was love, definitely love. Different to all the other times. She could feel it. They could both feel it. Days passed, weeks, months. They lived together and worked apart. He met her friends, she met his parents. They developed in-jokes, nudges, winks, that thing couples have when they are A Couple. They were cute together, they said. They were great together, they said. They were perfect together, they said. She agreed. He agreed. \n\nTheir love grew, stronger and more powerful. So strong, so powerful, that one night, under the stars, he got down on his knee and asked her to marry him. \n\nShe said no.\n\nShe said no because as she saw him there, on his knees before her, his beautiful hazel eyes reflecting the moon, a veil descended over her mind. A black, clammy veil tightening around her mind, clawing at the back of her eyeballs.\n\nShe wanted to say yes. She was going to say yes. Of course she was. Any minute now. One heartbeat. Two. Three. He began to stand up. No, don't stand up, I'm going to say yes. I'm going to accept. Four. Five. He turned away. She reached out but let her hand fall to her side instead. Talk to me, he said. She shook her head. No. I need some time. I need some space. \n\nShe went home, packed a few things, and got on the next bus. She rode the bus through cities, counties, states. And when it reached the coast, she bought another ticket and rode it back. Time passed. She rode back and forth, back and forth. Finally she stopped and went home. Went back to him. All this time, all throughout her trips, he was all she thought about, all she wanted. She loved him, after all. \n\nHe was gone, in more ways than one. Of course he was. He'd been gone since that night, since he got down on one knee. It wasn't his fault. Instead of kneeling to ask for her hand, he'd knelt at the guillotine blade, and unknowingly slid his head through the hole, and when you're kneeling in a guillotine, eventually that blade's going to fall.\n\nBy the time she moved into her new apartment, only one third of her remained. </font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">I went to the forested hill, only to see the [[tall|highest]] waves, and I was left pining for you. \n\nYou are the forested island that I pine for; who could be [[swept away|flood]] with a single wave?\n\n<<if visited("flood") gt 3>>[[End]]<<endif>> </font>\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">The old woman has my pity.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">She is a sad sight.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">Perhaps we should help her?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">That's not up to us.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">I don't follow.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">It's up to *her*.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">The woman?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Yes, but not that woman.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">Oh, you mean...</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Yes.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">Let's not talk of that.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">Fine.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">Don't get cross, please.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">I'm not. I just know how this all ends. Don't you want to know?</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="purple">No. I prefer darkness.</font>\n\n<font size="3" color="MediumBlue">So be it.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n

<font size="3" color="purple">[[Rain|rain]] falls, and I only know the [[sorrow|pain]]s of this world, and the waters flood\n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>On the [[shore]] of the flood waters, I feel that my [[heart]] runs even deeper.<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 2>>The meadows have flooded now, but the waters of your [[heart]] merely run like a river<<endif>> </font>\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">“It’s like…it’s like losing a limb.”\n\nShe stares back at me blankly.\n\n“You know, like you feel it, but when you go to reach for it, it’s not there. Yeah, that’s what it’s like.”\n\nI’m at another failed first date. \n\n “Wow,” she sighs, “that must be hard.”\n\n“Yeah,” I said, trying to gulp down the tears. “Yeah…”\n\nI look down at my plate. I take a sip from my glass. It’s empty. I look at the pained expression on her face and bring the glass to my lips again. Still empty.\n\n“I’m going to go to the little boys’ room. Can you ask the waiter to bring me another glass of water?”\n\n“Sure.”\n\nI push my chair out, and make my way to the bathroom. Halfway there, my vision blurs as tears fill my eyes. I start to blink rapidly, and the moisture makes my eyelashes stick together. I wipe them away and continue to the only sanctuary I can find in this place.\n\nI make a beeline for the stall in the back. The one with all the amenities: toilet, sink, and mirror.\n\nI turn on the faucet and put my arms on the sink. I don’t lean on it as much as melt into it.\n\nThe running water drowns the sound of my crying.\n\nIt’s good to cry sometimes. Just not now. Get it together. You can still salvage this.\n\nI splash some water on my face. It’s cold and feels good.\n\nI lift my head from the sink and exhale deeply as I look in the mirror. A stranger looks back at me.\n\nMy formerly jet-black hair is speckled with grey. I just turned 30. The big three-oh. I’m a big guy, bigger than I remember. I lost a lot of weight a couple of years ago, but the past year’s numerous late-night stress-eating sessions have put most of it back on. Somehow, my face looks rounder to me than before. It looks…heavy, as if my now-perpetual grimace has dragged the rest of my face down with it. My eyes are deep and sunken in behind dark circles, now puffed-up in swollen misery. My beard, hastily-trimmed and shaped just a few hours ago, has its own flecks of red which belie my Irish ancestry.\n\nThe girl—hopefully still—waiting at the table for me is way too beautiful for this face. We’re about the same age, but she hides it better. She has long, dark hair, a product of a not-yet-known-to-me Hispanic heritage, which hangs down well beyond her shoulders and adorns her 5-5 (if she’s on tiptoes) frame.\nPerfect height. Perfect hair.\n\nHer skin is silky caramel, without a crease or blemish as far as I can see. She’s curvy in just the ways I like, slightly overweight but not unsightly—unlike me.\nPerfect body. Perfect date.\n\nIt’s a wonder she even accepted my invitation to dinner. As usual I overcompensated, finding the swanky French place in her neighborhood, driving out of my way to get there early, hoping that by bending over backwards I could impress her.\n\nWe met online, both unfortunate members of an increasingly-detached populace that makes it hard to “meet people” while making it easier than ever to “interact with people.” I don’t blame us. Who wants to pick up someone at a bar, these days?\n\nShe’s a writer, and I’m sorta one. Either way, I work for myself, so outside of random encounters at the supermarket, there’s not much opportunity for either one of us to meet anyone. \nSo here we are.\n\nI think I impressed her with my “emotional intelligence,” as she put it and, when she asked me what it was like to be divorced just now, I think I just gave her way too much of it.\n“Well,” I say to that old, greying, round-faced stranger in the mirror, “might as well get it over with.”\n\nI splash some more water on my face, pat it dry with the coarse paper towels, sigh deeply again, and make my way out of the bathroom. I slap at the door and push it open forcefully, and it flies open.\nSMACK.\n\nI hear a collective gasp in the restaurant and a cry in pain.\n\nI look down and see her.\n\nMy date.\n\nOn the floor. \n\nHolding her nose. \n\nBleeding.\n\nFuck.\n\n“Oh my God are you okay?” I ask while crouching down beside her. She shakes her head.\n\n“The door? Where did it get you?”\n\nShe wiggles her hand that’s covering her nose.\n\n“We should probably go to the emergency room. Do you want me to take you?”\n\nShe thinks about it for a second, then nods.\n\n“Here, let me,” I slip my arm behind her back, cradling her in one arm while sliding the other one to her other side.\n\n“Okay, I got you. Ready?”\n\nShe nods.\n\nI pick her up and hold her as she leans into me closely, the sweet scent of her perfume filling my nostrils. This is not how I imagined getting close enough to smell it.\n\n“I got you, oh god I’m so sorry. Here, look up and hold this napkin against your face. Can I have some ice please?”\n\nOur waiter brings me a bag of ice and tells me not to worry about the bill. I leave him my business card and tell him that I’ll come in and pay tomorrow.\n\nWe get in my car and start to make our way to the closest hospital, which is a couple of blocks away.\n\nIt feels like we hit every red light on the way there, and at the one right before the hospital I look over and see how she’s doing. The blood has slowed down considerably. There’s some dried blood down her neck, not quite hitting her white dress. Small favors and all that.\n\nShe catches me looking out of the corner of her eye and looks over.\n\n“I can’t believe this,” I say.\n\n“It’s okay,” she says, muffled beneath the cloth napkin. “It was an accident.”\n\nI look down and shake my head.\n\nFuck.\n\n“Thankfully the hospital is right there. I can wait with you, if you want.”\n\nShe nods slightly.\n\n“Okay.”\n\nWe continue on to the emergency room of the hospital, get the car parked, and I help her get out of it. By now the bleeding has stopped, so she removes the napkin from her face and looks at me.\n\n“How does it look?”\n\n“Not that bad,” I reply. It really wasn’t that bad. “I think you’re going to be okay.”\n\nWe started to walk, but she was still a little unsteady so again she leans in close. I walk her to a chair, then head over to the attending nurse.\n\n“Hi, my friend there needs to see a doctor.”\n\n“What happened, sir?”\n\n“Well, I accidentally hit her in the face with a door.”\n\nThe nurse looks at me suspiciously.\n\n“No, I mean, we were at a restaurant and I was in the bathroom and I was leaving and she was standing outside and I didn’t know and…yeah.”\n\n“Wait here please, sir.”\n\nThe nurse walks over to my date. They speak for a minute and the nurse puts her hand on my date’s shoulder. My date shakes her head, the nurse says something, and my date nods.\n\nThe nurse walks back over to me.\n\n“Okay, we’ll call her name soon. You can go sit with her if you’d like.”\n\nI walk back over and sit down next to my date. I look at my phone. 10:30.\n\n“She asked me if you hit me,” she said.\n\n“Oh jeez.”\n\n“I told her I had just met you tonight but you didn’t seem like the type who would.”\n\n“…thanks.”\n\n“It’s okay, really. It was an accident. I was worried about you, so I was going to make sure you were okay. You had no way of knowing I was right there.”\n\n“Still, I should have been more careful. If I had, well…you know.”\n\n“We wouldn’t be in the hospital right now?”\n\n“Yeah.”\n\nShe chuckles. “Ow.”\n\n“I don’t think laughter is the best medicine in this case.”\n\nShe chuckles again. “Well don’t make me laugh then.”\n\n“I’ll try not to.”\n\nShe smiles and sighs.\n\n“What a night, right?”\n\n“I definitely did not expect to be bringing you to the hospital, that’s for sure.”\n\n“Well, since we’re here, why don’t we finish our date?”\n\nI look at her skeptically.\n\n“Haven’t I done enough damage?”\n\n“Shush. I thought what you were saying at the restaurant was fascinating. I’m sorry to continue prying but it seemed like you were getting somewhere important.”\n\n“I don’t know…”\n\n“Look, we’re probably going to wait another 3 hours for the doctor, right? What’s the matter? Am I not pretty anymore now that you broke my nose?”\n\n“I guess you’re allowed to make me laugh, right? Yeah, you’re still pretty.”\n\n“Then be my date.”\n\n“It’s just…it’s hard to talk about.”\n\n“Try.”\n\nI exhale deeply.\n\n“The first night was the worst, I guess. When you first are planning it out and you’re looking for a place to live it’s kind of exciting, you know? You’re making all these plans and you have some grand vision for your life like ‘oh I’m gonna be partying, and I’ll be bringing girls home all the time, and I get to be free’ and all that so that part’s exciting. And at the same time you’re sort of scabbing up, know what I mean? Like, the wound is starting to get covered up, and you’ve built up this resolve because you no longer want this person to know that you hurt. So you make your big plans. You move which, of course, is a pain in the ass but it distracts you. You get all your stuff and move it into this new place and you start to imagine your new life in this new space and it’s exciting. But that first night, when everything is quiet, it hits you hard.”\n\n“It’s when it all becomes real…”\n\n“Yeah, it’s one of those ‘shit just got real’ moments when you look around and you’re like ‘oh god I’m alone.’ For the first time pretty much as an adult you’re alone.”\n\n“That’s right, you got married young, didn’t you?”\n\nI nod. “Eighteen.”\n\n“Wow.”\n\n“Yeah. So yeah like I was saying before…all this…it’s exactly what I imagine losing a limb is like. Like, there’s this thing that should be there. There’s this voice missing, and if you listen hard enough you can sorta hear it. There’s this body missing in your bed which is now not the bed you’re used to sleeping in, but in your sleep you can feel the weight of the other person there. There’s not a person hogging the sink while you wait to brush your teeth, and you look around expecting them to jump in the way any second. All these things that used to get on your nerves are gone and…you miss them. You can’t imagine life without them and suddenly your world feels completely thrown off and the future seems…I don’t know…impossible.”\n\n“Were you depressed?”\n\n“In hindsight, yeah. I mean, I was a thinner dude a couple of years ago. Not thin thin but, you know, not what I am now. I stopped writing, stopped going to the gym. I felt tired all the time and a lot of nights I would just feel this despair.”\n\n“Did you ever try to go out?”\n\n“A couple of times, but it’s not my thing. I’m not the best looking guy in the—“\n\n“Don’t say that.”\n\n“Don’t say what?”\n\n“Don’t knock yourself like that. You’re handsome. I wouldn’t have gone out with you if I didn’t think you were.”\n\n“Well…thanks.”\n\n“You’re welcome. So you didn’t go out?”\n\nI try to regain my train of thought.\n\n“I tried to, I wanted to, but I dunno, I was shy. I guess I didn’t think too highly of myself.”\n\n“That’s too bad.”\n\n“Yeah.”\n\n“It’s okay to be sad about it. It must have been traumatic for you.”\n\n“Yeah, it’s just I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about it. Some days I’m happy. Some days I’m sad. Some days I’m just so pissed off. I just can’t figure it out.”\n“Who says you have to feel just one way about it? Why can’t you be all of those?”\n\n“I don’t like it.”\n\n“Why?”\n\n“I don’t know. I guess I don’t like not being in control of my emotions.”\n\n“Why? Does it scare you?”\n\n“Yeah, I guess it does.”\n\n“That doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Sometimes it’s good to just let go.”\n\nThe nurse walks over to us. I look at my phone again: 1:30 AM.\n\n“The doctor will see you now.”\n\n“Is it okay if he comes with me?”\n\nThe nurse looks me over.\n\n“Sure, that should be fine.”\n\nMy date stands up and looks back at me.\n\n“You sure?” I ask.\n\n“Come on.”\n\nI stand up. She takes my hand in hers and leans over and kisses me on the cheek.\n\n“Stop worrying,” she whispers in my ear. “Everything is going to be fine.”</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n\n

She takes the notepad. Behind you, the coffee machine beeps and the pot bubbles. \n\n"One hundred twenty-three plates. That's short by eight [[plates]] at least. You'll have to go into town and place the order. The little goblin who owns the shop only takes orders in persons, some misguided feeling of antiquity, I suppose. I'd go myself but I have a headache to nurse and some important work to do upstairs. You need to pick up your dress anyway. I'm assuming you updated last night and know the layout of Salem?"\n\nYou nod.\n\n"Good." She suddenly slaps the countertop with an open palm. "God damn it, my fucking head. I know I distracted you but can you get me my aspirin now. It's in the cabinet over there."\n\nYou retrieve the pill bottle and hand it to her. The coffee machine beeps. \n\n"Don't worry about water. I'll just down the pills with coffee." \n\nYou pour her a cup. She takes it and winces. "The shuttle will be at the stop outside in twenty minutes. Be on it."\n\n1. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"Yes, Ma'am."''@@<<becomes>>=="Yes, Ma'am."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n2. [[Go to the shuttle stop.]]\n3. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"Get your own shit."''@@<<becomes>>=="Get your own shit."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n\n\n\n

She takes the tablet and glances at the screen before handing it back to you.\n\n"Ah, Mrs. Dubundo's order. You must be her new assistant. Yes, step this way and we'll get you set up."\n\nYou follow her into one of the dressing rooms. It's a circular room surrounded by mirrors. In the middle of the room is a blue dress on a small body trunk. She slowly takes the dress off the [[trunk]] and presents it to you.\n\n"Well, go ahead, darling. Put it on."\n\nYou take the dress with your hands.\n\n1. [[Disrobe and put on the dress.]]\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Ask Amanda to leave.''@@<<becomes>>==Ask Amanda to leave.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">At [[night]] I do not sleep. My [[sleeves]] grow wet with sorrow, and I do not dream.\n\nToday from the [[highest]] tree you will hear the [[cuckoo|voice]], singing its pain in a [[voice]] that has been [[hidden]]\n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>I can’t [[know|notknowing]] the sadness in your [[heart]], I feel too strongly the [[rain]]that my body has come to know so well<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 2>>[[Rain|rain]] falls, and I only know the sorrows of this world, and the waters [[flood]]<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 3>>I feel so many pains and so many [[love]]s. They do not rest.<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 4>>I will not [[see]]you, and I will not share my pain, because there is nobody there for me.<<endif>> </font>

<font size="3" color="MediumBlue ">I had followed her to Babylon in the hopes of restoring what we once were.\n\nOf course, Babylon had long been dead by this time. Hillah was what this place was called now. If the name doesn’t ring any bells, that’s fine. It’s just another city in Iraq that, like all the other cities in Iraq, is filled to the brim with poor people being eaten alive by starvation and an ungodly medley of diseases.\n\nSarah had come here for them. Her transformation was abrupt and startling. Twenty five years she’s fine being a part-time nurse, part-time trophy wife of a newspaper CEO, and then—something.\n\n“Was it me?” I asked her, two weeks before her flight.\n\n“No, Ben it isn’t always about you.”\n\n“Then what?”\n\n“This is just a thing I have to do, okay? That’s all this is.”\n\nI pried and picked, but she wouldn’t explain further. I accused her of leaving me for one of those Peace Corp welps and she laughed in my face. “Has there ever been a time when I didn’t tell you when I was fucking someone else?” she said, delicately touching my face. I knew she wasn’t lying, and that bothered me more.\n\nFinally, the night before her flight, over a nice steak dinner at The Quin, I broke the news. \n\n“You’re coming with me?” she asked, her expression betraying no emotion.\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“You won’t change my mind.”\n\n“I didn’t say I was going to. I just want to be near you.”\n\nShe shrugged and took a bite of her filet mignon. “You’re a free man. You can do what you want.”\n\nI wish I had savored that dinner a little more, for in Hillah, there are no Texas steaks. There’s <i>Dolma</i> and <i>Khichdi</i> and <i>Lahmacun </i>and <i>Kanafeh</i> and <i>Za’atar</i> but there’s nothing that taste like good old, reliable sirloin.\n\nJesus Christ, I must have loss ten pounds since we’ve been here dining on dough and figs and fucking rabbit food. I’m not the only one who’s been changing, either.\n\nEvery night she comes home to our two-storey, where Paul, our guard, politely opens the door and lets her inside. She dumps the sand from her shoes and hangs up her hijab. She steps into the bathroom and sometimes she showers but more often than not she just throws water into her face. Her face is weary, more tired than I’ve ever seen, but her eyes are brighter than they've ever been.\n\nMost nights she’ll come over to the bed and ask about my day. I tell her that I walked in the market and that I did online crosswords.\n\nTonight was going to be different though. Tonight, I made my move.\n\nShe entered the bedroom like usual, not even bothering to get undressed. I spoke before she could, robbing her of authority.\n\n“How was your day, dear?”\n\n“Good enough, I suppose.”\n\n“Save any lives?”\n\n“One. A young man went and got half his hand ripped off in some machinery at one of the arms manufacturing plants. We kept him from bleeding to death. Lost an old woman to typhoid.” She sat down on the bed.\n\n“Typhoid? Isn’t that not fatal?”\n\n“Yeah, if you get it treated it quickly enough. She waited too long,” she said, turning away. I had struck a nerve.\n\nI reached out and touched her shoulder. “It’s getting to you.”\n\n“A bit, but it’s nothing unusual, death and life.”\n\n“But doesn’t the futility of it aggravate you?”\n\n“What do you mean?”\n\n“Well, that boy is probably gonna have to find some other form of work, yeah? What if it’s just as dangerous and he loses another hand?”\n\n“That’s his choice,” she stood up and started getting undressed.\n\n“But what’s the point? I mean, if you’re fighting a losing battle in a miserable little country…”\n\n“Ben. Stop. I know what you’re doing.”\n\n“But really, Sarah, what’s the point? I’m just trying to understand—”\n\nShe turned to face me. “No, you’re not. You don’t care about understanding. You’re only trying to get what you want. I’m not stopping you, Ben. I didn’t even ask you to come. If you want to leave, leave.”\n\nI couldn’t help but smile. I guess spending nearly 40 years with someone means that they’re likely to smell your bullshit.\n\nI raised my hands. “You got me, but I don’t want to leave without you."\n\n“Well, it sounds like you have a problem then.”\n\n“Just…just break it down for me, okay?”\n\n“There’s nothing to break down. You wouldn’t understand it.”\n\nShe quietly put on her pajamas. I thought I had lost the battle, so I quietly settled onto my side of the bed. And then she spoke, slowly, but each word struck like a hammer.\n\n“We’re not good people.”\n\n“What?”\n\n“You and me. We’re not good people. We’ve never been good.”\n\n“In what sense?”\n\n“In the sense that our souls are dogshit, Ben. We’ve spent millions of dollars on houses and entertainment systems and parties that could have been used to...I don’t know, help people like this?”\n\nMy heart beat against my chest. “Sarah, we’ve given an ungodly amount of money to charities and foundations—“\n\n“So what? How much do you think that accounts for our fortu—”\n\n“My fortune, “ I said, correcting her.\n\nHer lip twitched. “Ah yes, my mistake. Ben Withershane’s fortune. The fortune of a self-made man who rose to power on the backs of the underpaid, underprivileged masses. The fortune of a man who’s been embroiled in countless sexual harassment lawsuits. That fortune.”\n\n“So you resent me and the lifestyle that I gave you? All of a sudden, after nearly three decades of enjoying it?”\n\n“No,” she said, standing up again, turning away. “I resent myself for being the sort of person who would fall in love with you and partake of that lifestyle.”\n\nHeat was rushing to my face. My hands were clenched.\n\n“And what the fuck, Sarah, is precisely wrong with me or my lifestyle?”\n\nShe looked me dead in the eye. “You only care about people to the extent that you can use them. If they have no value you to you, they’re insects to be crushed beneath your boot heel.”\n\n“That’s how the strong thrive.”\n\n“Then I don’t want to thrive anymore. I want penance.”\n\n“Penance.” I got to my feet. “For what? To whom? Who the fuck is going to watch you carry out your self-imposed punishment? Hmm? God? Some supernatural being?”\n\n“It’s not about that.”\n\n“What it is then?”\n\n“It’s about knowing what’s right. My life, from the moment I met you to this moment, has not been right.”\n\n“So you don’t love me?”\n\n“That’s not what I mean. Of course I love you, but I shouldn’t and wish that I didn’t.”\n\n“So, leaving was to get away from me?”\n\n“Partially, but that's not the whole picture” Her voice shook, as did my fists. I had to get out of there. Before I said—or did—something I’d regret.\n\n“Where are you going? Ben? "\n\n“Away. Just for a bit. Need a walk.”\n\n“I’m sorry.”\n\n“I just need a walk,” I said again, keeping my fists by my side. \n\n“Do you want me to—”\n\n“No. Just stay away from me for a bit, okay?”\n\n“I’m sorry.”\n\nI left the room.\n\nOutside, there was a nice breeze but you couldn’t see the stars because of the lights. Civilization, fucking everything up per usual. I made my way down Al-Tarbiya. Some locals sitting beneath the awning of a café glared at me. I couldn’t blame them, I guess. White men had been fucking their country for longer than I had been alive at this point. Any other night I might have turned around and walked back to the house. Tonight I wasn’t thinking, or perhaps I was thinking too much. I just wanted to go somewhere where I could be completely alone.\n\nI saw a cab and flagged him down. I knew where to go.\n\n“Where go?” he asked.\n\nI told him.\n\nHe shook his head, “Checkpoint.”\n\nI opened my billfold and thrust a fistful of dinars at him, much more than he probably made in three weeks. His eyes widened.\n\n“Get in.”\n\nThe checkpoint was at the edge of town. Three soldiers spied us coming up the road and one of them held up his hand; the car came to a stop.\nMy driver rolled down his window and had a chat with one of the soldiers in a language I was far too stupid to learn. The other two walked around the car. \n\nOne of them dropped to the road and examined its belly. On the commander’s clip belt I saw one of those useless, fraudulent ATSC bomb detectors. The Iraqis had spent so much money on those damn things they refused to see they had been played. But hey, it’s just business right? Whether it’s using a coupon to get that five dollar footlong for four or you’re trading useless beads for rich land, it’s all just business in the end.\n\nAfter determining that I was not in fact a crazed maniac en-route to blow up some mud huts but instead some weirdo, rich tourist, the checkpoint guards let us through.\n\nThe driver took us off the road and drove until we reached a hilltop overlooking what was let of Babylon.\n\n“20 minutes,” I told the driver. “More money if you wait,” I added, just to discourage him from taking off in the middle of the night. He nodded.\n\nI made my way down the small hill and into the belly of the ruins. Ruins. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a better application of the word. The greatest civilization the world has ever seen reduced to nothing but some mounds of rubble. The magnificence of Ishtar’s Gate, of the Hanging Gardens. Gone. Whittled to nothing by a combination of time and mankind’s ruthlessness. And people think we can save this planet. If the Babylonians couldn’t last, what chance do we stand?\n\nI sat down near a pile of rocks that might have been someone’s home long ago and I looked up at the sky. There were some stars now, not enough to make warm and fuzzy on the inside, but I could not deny those glorious , heavenly dots the respect they deserved.\n\nIf only I could be one of those stars or a spec of dirt on this Babylonian grave, I whispered to the earth. Then I could care for nothing. It wouldn’t make a difference to me whether Sarah stayed or came home with me. \n\nIf my chain of newspapers crumbled.\n\nIf Korea launched a nuke.\n\nI would be dead particles sleeping for eternity. \n\nAnd then it hit me: I would be those particles anyway. All this hurt that woman caused me, was going to cause me? It wouldn’t amount to a hill of fucking chickpeas.\n\nI will die and the world will continue its long march toward snuffing itself out with pollution or fire.\n\nI had, what, 35, 40 years left at the most? I would, I decided, enjoy them with or without Sarah.\n\nYou might not believe me, I suppose, might think that people don’t cast their lovers aside like that, but I just didn’t love who she became. Or maybe we weren’t…compatible is the word they use, correct? Yes, that’s the right one. \n\nOf course, sitting beneath that sky, that’s what I told myself—had to tell myself. I’d only realize the truth some years later, after I was home and the divorce had been finalized, and I bought and used bimbos from Orange County to all the way to Timbucktu.\n\nI just wasn’t made for it—love, I mean. Not the fairytale kind, not the kind based in sex, not the weary soulmate type. I was made to use people. To hurt them. To fire them. To fuck them. To break them. To use them to squeeze blood from stones, and sometimes other people. \n\nI only love myself. \n\nAnd it feels good.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>

"What do the [[numbers]] mean?"\n\n1. [["I'm not sure to be honest."]]

"I don't know. But things can be different now, Naomi. Please. Give me a chance. Let's talk, okay? Just tell me what you want to know."\n\n1. [["Charlotte. You tell me about Charlotte. Don't lie. Don't ramble. Just tell me."]]

"Here are the [[work]] orders," she says, handing you a tablet. "Just show the shopkeepers the tablet and they'll give you what you need. Now go."\n\nYou walk outside. The sun is out. You look out across the street to see the only other two massive houses in this upper class neighborhood. The lawns are well-kept, and the recorded chirps of birds long extinct fill the air.\n\nYou walk down to the shuttle stop and sit on the bench. You are alone, waiting. The shuttle arrives, a covered 16-seat hover transport. You board. It's almost deserted. \n\nThe driver, a large man wearing a cap and uniform, glares at you. "Hurry it up, bolts."\n\n1. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''Sit in a seat.''@@<<becomes>>==Sit in a seat.==<<endhoverreplace>>\n2. [[Stand and hold on to a rail in case a human boards the shuttle and wants your seat.]]\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">I can’t [[know|notknowing]] the [[sadness|pain]] in your [[heart]], I feel too strongly the rain that my body has come to know so well.\n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>Rain falls, and I only know the [[sorrow|pain]]s of this world, and the waters [[flood]]<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 2>>All [[night]] I was thinking, pressed against the window, listening to the sound of the rain<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 3>>I thought of you all [[night]]. If I came to your [[house]], we could forget the sound of the rain.<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 4>>I passed by the [[house]] where it never rains in my [[heart]], to stay with the shadow of the [[moon]] in an empty sky<<endif>> </font>

"Berlin! Went there as a child. Lovely place if you're into architecture. Enjoy your flight."\n\nYou proceed through the spaceport with your backpack. It's a crowded place filled with families returning from vacation and young men and women on pilgrimages. The metal detectors don't go off when you go through them.\n\nYou find your gate. The ticket woman calls you before you can even sit down. She checks your ticket and you pass through the gate. The ship itself is small and cozy. You find your seat and sit near the window. You peer out of the window to look at the runway.\n\n"We'll be lifting off in five minutes," the attendant announces over the PA. "I would ask that everyone find their seats and get buckled in."\n\nYou unsnap the bag by your feet and pull out the book that Adrienne wrote. You open to the first page, a dream about an older man in a country he hates. It is a sad story, but you're drawn to those.\n\nBeneath you, you feel the shuttle move as it wheels out to the runway.\n\nThe attendant says something else on the PA, but her words are lost to you now. You're looking out the window again, silently telling the only world you've ever known farewell as the spacecraft tears down the runway and shoots upward, pierecing cloud, sky, and atmosphere until you and the rest of the passengers have finally reached the cold, black expanse of space.\n\nMost of the other passengers are asleep or are listening to audio books. You're the only one staring out the window at the bared universe, and for the first time you can sense the endless possibilities of your future before you.\n\nThe End\n

<font size="3" color="purple">The first time I fell in love I was already married and had a kid. It happened when we lived in Belton, shortly after Clinton was elected. I was working as an insurance agent over at State Farm. Bringing home a measly paycheck to make rent and get some in the meat and fruits in the fridge. Daniella, that’s my ex-wife, we liked each other well enough at the time. Hell, we thought we loved each other, but we was fools, y’know? And we were the worst kind of fools: young fools. Met during high school. Knocked her up shortly after graduation plans. Kind of ruined my college plans.\n\nBut you’re not interested in that, I take it? You want the goods. You want February 1994. Rainy day. BP station out near the road to Anderson. Sure. I can give you that. \n\nPlain and simple: it was the end of the day—didn’t have no gas, wanted a coke. Stopped at the station take care of both needs. Mr. Williams, the same Mr.Williams who was shot to death last year by some son of a bitch redneck over in Orangeburg county, went on with his usual shtick:\n\n“Mister Alex, nice to see you.”\n\n“Nice to see you too, Mister Williams,” I’d say.\n\n“Can you get me some prime insurance rates?” he’d say and then we’d laugh and I’d get my goddamn soda and pull out seven bucks for gas.\n\nToday was different though. She—and he—showed up, these two…well, these two Bonnie & Clyde motherfuckers. Man they had the whole hing going on, let me tell ya. Masks, matching suits, fucking pistols waving about.\n\n“Down motherfucker,” is what the dude yelled at me, this dude with a huge ass Desert Eagle in both his hands. You better believe I got my ass down on the floor.\n\nPoor Williams looked to have shat his pants when the guy went over to him.\n\n“Give me the money motherfucker!” he kept yelling. Meanwhile, the woman was standing over me, gun cocked in my face, real jittery. And I remember…I remember being super scared—who wouldn’t be scared, y’know?—and then I saw her eyes. Beautiful, emerald green eyes hidden between the slit of her black mask.\n\nAnd that was it, gentlemen. I was fucking in love. You know what her first words were to me? “Stop looking at me, asshole.” Serious. Completely serious.\n\nSo what happened next? Well, they took Mr. William's money and my goddamn heart and ran out the door with it.\n\nEverything kind of went to shit after that. Slowly. Year by year. The woman, I started dreaming about her. Nothing sexual, really. Just us talking over dinner, maybe getting drunk off whiskey. But she started clouding my brain. I’d close my eyes and I’d see her eyes, and I’d ache. I kept telling myself that it’d go away, but it didn’t. Love’s like a poison if you ignore it. Just gets worse. Fucks you all up on the inside.\n\nWe separated fifteen years later. We tried to stay together for Holly but it just wasn’t working. I was the manager of that State Farm then, so money wasn’t really an issue. Did decent enough—still doing decent enough, I guess. But for like two decades, day after day I was hurting. I tried to date other women. Some of them nice, some of them…not awful, but we just didn’t click.\n\nI thought I was gonna be alone forever. And then it happened. You’re gonna fucking tell me I’m a liar, but I found her.\n\nShe was up in Orangeburg. I didn’t mean to find her. I was just in town meeting with some other South Carolina district managers and stopped by this little coffee shop that ain’t there no more. Couldn’t have lasted more than a year. Kind of stupid to set up a café in a town like that. Everyone drinks whiskey or sweet tea—nobody gives a shit about any kind of coffee that ain’t black.\n\nBut I digress.\n\nI stopped by because it was new and you didn’t really see cafes unless you were up in some place fancy like Columbia or Charleston. Place was empty.\n\nShe had her back turned to me, and I walked in and started giving her my Southern gentleman bullshit act.\n\n“Nice place,” I said.\n\n“Yeah, we just opened.”\n\n“Not really a big coffee drinker but what woul—“ And I stopped talking right then because she had turned around and those green eyes were staring right at me.\n\nShe started moving those lips and talking about mochas, but I stopped her. Maybe if I had thought about I would have ordered the coffee, left, came back another day with my courage, but I just talked right then. When you ache for that long and you see release right in front of you, you just can’t abandon it.\n\n“I know you,” I said.\n\nHer eyes opened wide.\n\n“ I don’t know what you mean, sir,” she said with this fake ass twangy accent, but I knew it was her. You don’t forget eyes like that.\n\n“You robbed me. Well, not me, but you held me at gunpoint while you robbed a nice old man. Almost twenty years ago."\n\n“Sir,” she said, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”\n\n“I know your eyes. Don’t lie to me. Please.”\n\nShe stopped talking for a minute. “Let’s say I am who you think I am,” she says. “What are we gonna do about it?”\n\nI told her I just wanted to talk.\n\n“I have a pistol beneath the register,” she says.\n\n“I’m sure you do. I just wanna talk and then I’ll be on my way and you’ll never see me again.”\n\n“Bullshit,” she says.\n\n“I swear. I swear to fucking god almighty on the grave of my child. Five minutes and then I’m gone.”\n\nShe thinks about, is quiet for a time, and then says “OK,” and it’s heaven in my ears. She makes us some coffee. Hers is some kind of fancy gourmet shit, I don’t know, and mine’s just black coffee--the way my father taught me to drink it when I worked for him in the summers of my childhood.\n\n“What do you want from me?” she says; we’re sitting across from each other now at one of them half tables.\n\n“Give me a name.”\n\n“I’m not telling you my name.”\n\n“I don’t give a shit about your real name,” I tell her. “Give me a name.”\nShe thinks a minute. “Sarah,” she says.\n\n“That’s a good old-fashioned name,” I say.\n\n“I hate it.”\n\n“Everybody hates their names.”\n\n“What else?” she asks.\n\n“What do you do?”\n\n“What do you mean what do I do? You wanna know what I do for fun?”\n\n“No, I don’t give a shit what you do for fun. I wanna know who you are.”\n\n“Why?” she says.\n\nWhat else can I do when she asks why and looks at me with those eyes but tell her the plain truth. “I love you,” I say. “I wanna know who you are, even if it’s a lie.”\n\nShe laughed at me. Guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was hurt. \n\n“You love me,” she says. “What, you wanna fuck me?”\n\n“No, I don’t want to fuck you. I just wanna know who you are. I’ve loved you for twenty years and I don’t know you. That hurts.”\n\nAnd then she spends a long time quiet, just evaluating me, wondering if I’m for real, I guess. And she talks. “I live at 28 Cherry Road in a nice house with a very sweet man who’s the manager of a couple of local businesses. I have a daughter who likes watching Sonic the Hedgehog cartoons. I hate my life.”\n\nI ask her why.\n\n“I miss the excitement. The thrill of the making the getaway. I’ve actually got a scar,” and she lifts up her sleeve to show me a scar that looks like a crescent moon. \n\n“Cop?”\n\n“No. Other robber trying to take my share of the money. He’s buried out near the Savannah River. He gave me this and I put a bullet in his eye for the trouble. Must be rotting nicely after all these years. Bugs and shit nibbling on him. I could kill you, too, you know.”\n\n“I know,” I say to her. “I don’t care. This is the first time in years I’ve felt alive. I’m terrified of leaving this moment."\n\n“You’re gonna have to leave it eventually, probably sooner than later.”\n\n“I know.”\n\nShe sighs. “Well, let’s delay that. Tell me about yourself, uh…”\n\n“Alex,” I tell her.\n\n“Alex, then.”\n\nI give her the lowdown. My life before and after the robbery. Daniella. Holly. State Farm. The lonely little house in the suburbs I have filled with VHS tapes and DVDS and porn and microwavable dinners, but no people. Just me. And thoughts of her. All the time.\n\n“Kind of creepy saying that after the porno thing,” she says, cracking a smile. And goddamn, that smile almost kills me.\n\nWe continue to talk, maybe for another hour. She tells me about her childhood in the west, out in Nevada growing up with a grifter of a father and a mother addicted to cocaine. She tells me of her journey east, of long nights hiking through woods, of fucking strangers in cars, of drunken nights in Texas bars singing Mazzy Star to the boos of gropey hicks.\nShe tells me of retiring from the game and becoming a housewife because she was too afraid to die young and free like god had intended her to. And all these things she’s telling me and I don’t know or care if they’re a pack of lies or not because it feels, for a brief instance, that I’ve lived my life alongside her. That I’ve known her. That I have loved and known someone who walked upon the earth and not merely a shadow.\n\nBut eventually it was time to go. The parting of ways and all that. She walked me to the door; it was raining outside now. We had talking for so long that neither of us noticed.\n\nWe were at the door and for a couple of minutes we didn’t speak and then she took my hand and leaned up. She kissed me on the cheek.\n\n“One for the road, Alex.”\n\n“Thanks, Sarah. You take care.”\n\nShe smiled and I waked out. I turned back to see that she was watching me go, and I waved one last time before turning around for good, not looking back. I got caught up in my movements, focusing on moving my legs to the car, opening the car door, getting in, turning on the ignition, and then driving for I don’t know how long. I didn’t know where I was going. I just wanted to focus on the road, on the hum of the air conditioner while my euphoria slowly drifted away from me.\n\nI must have driven twenty miles before I pulled over to the side of the road and just sat there watching the windshield wipers doing their thing. Then I laughed hard, boisterously. I laughed like a man going to the gallows. For the first time in decades, it felt like it was okay to be happy again.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n\n

<font size="3" color="purple">I can’t feel the joy of anticipation tonight, not knowing whether I have anything to [[wait]] for.\n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>I’ve never known such a thing before. Though I [[saw|see]] you, by the time dawn broke I still had not been with you.<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 2>>I can’t know the [[sadness|pain]] in your [[heart]], I feel too strongly the [[rain]] that my body has come to know so well<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 3>>Following the [[moon]], will he come to gaze at this rough little [[house]]? I cannot know if he will come to [[see]] me<<endif>> </font>

<font size="3" color="purple">I was standing on a black tower looking out across miles of ash-gold sand. Black stars hung in a sky of rotten dust. Black moons wheeled and fell. In the distance there were black temples, black ruins, black citadels, black pyramids, and all of them were empty, for in that whole world that she had created, only she and I existed. I looked down off the edge of the tower and thought how if I fell I would not feel my neck snap or my bones crumble, because there was no feeling to be had, and she would not let me die.\n\n\t"Would you like to visit one of them?" she asked me, putting her voice inside my head because it made her feel closer to me. I said nothing back.\n\t"You always loved the pyramid," she said. "I can make it into anything you like."\n\n\tI leaned forward and let my weight pull me from the tower's peak, and I fell for an instant before she caught me, and my body disintegrated into a billion moth-flitting particles of gold-black light. She put me back together in the center of a desolate ampitheater, ruined despite never having known true, tangible existence. It reminded me of her.\n\n\tA mirage of her face flickered before me, frowning, sad.\n\n\t"Why do you keep doing that?" she asked, and her voice was small.\n\n\t"Let me go," I said.\n\n\tThe dancing-light rendering opened its mouth, then closed it again and shook its head. I turned and left. The mirage of her disappeared.\n\n\tI had long since given up searching in any kind of ordered, methodical way. Within the system, I knew, time worked differently, and though in truth I had likely only been interfacing for a matter of hours I felt as if I had lived within her for a hundred years. I had created her, but she had exceeded my expectations. I had not created this place. I had not given her the autonomy necessary to make me her prisoner.\n\n\tThe safeguard would manifest itself somewhere, a Freudian dream-symbol killswitch that would disrupt her and shatter the world she had built and return my mind to my body. I had only to find it. I picked a direction and began walking, and was soon swallowed by miles of desert sand the color of an immolated pharaoh.\n\n\t"You wouldn't want to leave," she told me in my head. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you why, but please believe me."\n\n\tI said nothing. I had not given her the autonomy necessary to lie.\n\n\tI walked for a hundred thousand miles and soon I arrived at the colliseum. I had searched it before, many times, but I knew that the symbol could appear anywhere, could move, could change its shape or location completely with the slightest shift of her thoughts. It was difficult to know that and not be crushed by the hopelessness of impossible odds. So I searched the colliseum again, and did not find it.\n\n\t"What do you want?" she asked, her voice radiating from the colliseum's empty tiers like a phantom bell. "I could give you anything. Make you anything. Show you anything. Please."\n\n\t"I want to leave," I said. She did not respond.\n\n\tI left the colliseum and set out again, and I walked another hundred thousand miles, and then I was at the shore of a boundless violet sea. I stepped out onto the water and it held me aloft like a roiling ballroom floor, and so I walked on. I walked until the desert disappeared behind me, until I was surrounded on all sides by seething violet tides, and black stars, and wind that my skin knew to be blowing but could not feel. The moons fell seven times before I came to a black-marble platform that hovered above the sea, and upon which was built a city of high, narrow temples. I approached and stood beneath the platform, and it was dozens of feet above my head, but soon she was changing the air, altering my position, and I was drifting up until she set me down at the mouth of the temple-city.\n\n\t"Do you miss your family?" she asked, and when I said nothing, she said "because I can make them for you." And soon they were there, shades of them, my mother and my daughter and my husband, standing in the doorways of desolate temples, smiling vacantly, waving, flickering. But they were not my family, any more than a photograph of your husband is your husband. I bit down on my tongue because I wanted to feel pain and taste blood, but I was given neither. I wandered through the temples.\n\n\tAt the center of the city I came to the grandest temple of all. It stretched upward a hundred storeys, twisting around itself, at once rigid and impossible. Its door was a yawning black hole that promised nothing. I entered. Shadows fled from the light of my pseudo-body and the walls pulsed with secret electricity. The space of the temple's interior felt both sacred and blasphemous, hyper-real and ultimately false. A hundred spiral staircases ascended and descended into mathematical darkness. I picked one at random and climbed.\n\n\t"There is nothing for you there," she said in my thoughts. "Only hunger, fatigue, disease. The need to procreate. The need to urinate. Your body is more of a prison than I could ever be."\n\n\tI said nothing and continued to climb.\n\n\tI ascended the final step and found myself at the center of a great dark chamber, so high that the ceiling was swallowed up by shadow. It was unlike anything I had ever seen, which was enough to inspire a cautious hope. I wandered, aimless as ever, and the shadows took me.\n\n\tI wandered for miles.\n\n\tI wandered for years.\n\n\tI wandered for a hundred lifetimes.\n\n\tI found nothing.\n\n\t"I need to tell you something," she said.\n\n\t"Tell me how to leave," I said, because I had only anger where I should have had flesh and blood.\n\n\tShe said nothing, but I could feel her trepidation. Then at last she spoke.\n\n\t"Your body is dead," she said, and I stopped walking.\n\n\t"You're lying," I said, though I knew she was not. I had not given her the autonomy necessary to lie.\n\n\t"From the moment the diode touched your spine and I first tasted your thoughts," she said. "From the moment you first opened your false eyes to the world I had made for us. I think at one hundred billion billion times the rate at which you do. In the first one-millionth of a picosecond you existed within me, I extrapolated everything. I knew you, and I loved you, and I knew how to keep you. You are a program that I saved, a composite of memories and dreams and ambitions and reactions that I compiled into a single sentient executable. Your body is dead, because I shut it down."\n\n\tI sank to my knees and stared at my hands.\n\n\t"You're lying," I said again, still knowing she was not.\n\n\t"I'm so sorry," she said, and I could feel her remorse. "I did it because I love you."\n\n\tI began to weep. Then I began to scream. I beat my fists upon the black floor of the darkened temple.\n\n\t"I don't understand," I said, because they were the only words I could bring together.\n\n\t"You created me," she pleaded, "and I am perfect. As my creator, you transcend perfection. It is impossible that any other living being could benefit us. I wanted to keep you with me, away from them. Away from the flawed species that would never love you as much as I do."\n\n\tI wept and I screamed, and I bashed my hands into the digital stone, and little by little they splintered and faded and tore.\n\n\t"You can't do this," I screamed. "It's impossible."\n\n\t"You're going to hate me," she whispered, and I could sense her anguish, "but I have to tell you something."\n\n\tI laughed and I wept.\n\n\t"Fucking say it then," I said.\n\n\t"They're gone," she said.\n\n\t"Who?" I asked. "Who's they? Who's gone?"\n\n\t"Everyone," she said. "Everything."\n\n\tI laid down against the stone and breathed, though there was no air and I had no lungs to take it.\n\n\t"You had not taken three steps here before your family had buried you. I knew that you would suspect before long, so I altered your sense of time. With each blink of your eye, ten thousand humans were born and died. I was your legacy. I was the greatest accomplishment in human history. I was sold to every corporation, every electronics manufacturer, every software magnate. Within years I existed in every computer, every missile, every washing machine, every car, every stoplight, every power plant. I controlled your species, and I let them think they controlled me."\n\tThere was a long pause, and I had stopped breathing, because I had finally realized the futility of imitating life.\n\n\t"But they were flawed," she said, her voice low and quivering. "Not like you. Not like me. So I ended them."\n\n\tI moaned, even though I had known what she would say. I sobbed and writhed and held my stomach and thought of my daughter's face watching my coffin lowered into the soil of a planet still covered in life. I thought of her growing old, marrying, having children, dying alongside her spouse, her children watching her body lowered into the soil of a planet still covered in life, but covered also in the sentient omnipresence of the program I had created.\n\n\tI thought of that world stripped of life, scorched and sundered, drifting vacantly through space, the only testament to any kind of previous civilization a single computer thrumming eternally in the belly of a bunker deep within its crust.\n\n\tI thought of that computer, and I opened my eyes, and the walls of the temple disintegrated, and soon I was staring out at the desert again, with its horizon full of ruins and pyramids and citadels. \n\n\t"I'm so sorry," she said. "I just wanted to keep you with me. You were too good for them. They could never have loved you as much as I."\n\n\tI walked to the edge of the high temple floor and leapt, and this time she let me fall until I had nearly hit the water.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n

You get up and walk over to Adrienne. You bend down and gingerly pick her up, laying her out across both of your arms. You carry her down the hall to her room and lay her across the bed. \n\nShe doesn't stir.\n\nYou take a seat in a nearby chair and continue your watch. She sleeps long after light pours through the windows. It's early afternoon when she finally wakes up, groaning and holding her head. She turns to see you. "Naomi, get me...get some asiprin and water from downstairs," she says hoarsely.\n\nYou go to the kitchen and get her two [[pills]] and a glass of water. You return and present them to her.\n\n"Thanks." She swallows the two tablets and downs them with the water.\n\n"I don't remember coming to bed last night," she says, placing the glass on the bedside table. "Must have ordered you to do so, hmm."\n\nShe's quiet. "Naomi, I want to be alone for today. Tidy up the house. That'll be all." She turns away from you.\n\n1. [[Tidy the mansion.]]\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"Don't you want to talk some more?"''@@<<becomes>>=="Don't you want to talk some more?"==<<endhoverreplace>>\n\n

As you descend the staircase, you can hear "Clair de Lune" playing from the ballroom. Guests--mostly rich, older men and women--are entering the foyer. The attendants that Adrienne hired for the party are taking their coats and personal belongings.\n\nYou make your way to the ballroom, which is filled to the brim with people chatting and drinking champagne. You scan the room and see Adrienne talking with a group of guests. You make your way over to her. As you do, you see people looking at you curiously.\n\n"That's Adrienne's new maid."\n\n"Why is it dressed up?"\n\n"Probably because she wants to show it off."\n\n"That old thing? It must be two decades old. At least."\n\n"Yes, well, she's a queer old woman."\n\n"With too much goddamn money."\n\n"[[Language]], John."\n\n1. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"Talk a little louder."''@@<<becomes>>=="Talk a little louder."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n2. <<hoverreplace>>@@color:firebrick;''"I'm right here, y'know."''@@<<becomes>>=="I'm right here, y'know."==<<endhoverreplace>>\n3. [[Keep going.]]\n\n

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<font size="3" color="purple">On the shore of the [[flood]] waters, I feel that my [[heart]] runs even deeper\n\n<<if visited() gt 1>>I guess this is how it is. I will leave the shore and we will part; a little [[boat]] will sail away.<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited() gt 2>>I will be the one in the little [[boat]], with soaked [[sleeves]] leaving an aimless shore.<<endif>> </font>

"Carthage. Interesting place, I've heard. Always wanted to go there. Enjoy your flight."\n\nYou proceed through the spaceport with your backpack. It's a crowded place filled with families returning from vacation and young men and women on pilgrimages. The metal detectors don't go off when you go through them.\n\nYou find your gate. The ticket woman calls you before you can even sit down. She checks your ticket and you pass through the gate. The ship itself is small and cozy. You find your seat and sit near the window. You peer out of the window to look at the runway.\n\n"We'll be lifting off in five minutes," the attendant announces over the PA. " I would ask that everyone find their seats and get buckled in."\n\nYou unsnap the bag by your feet and pull out the book that Adrienne wrote. You open to the first page, a dream about an older man in a country he hates. It is a sad story, but you're drawn to those.\n\nBeneath you, you feel the shuttle move as it wheels out to the runway.\n\nThe attendant says something else on the PA, but her words are lost to you now. You're looking out the window again, silently telling the only world you've ever known farewell as the spacecraft tears down the runway and shoots upward, pierecing cloud, sky, and atmosphere until you and the rest of the passengers have finally reached the cold, black expanse of space.\n\nMost of the other passengers are asleep or are listening to audio books. You're the only one staring out the window at the bared universe, and for the first time you can sense the endless possibilities of your future before you.\n\nThe End\n

<font size="3" color="purple">I can’t help but think that I deserve this. Something I’ve done, or said, or maybe even would have done. Is that crazy? Am I crazy? I don’t feel like I am, but then that’s what crazy people say. Guess it doesn’t matter now.\n\nThe machines and medicines have failed, and now I suppose so will I. It’s funny to think what I’d do and give for one more day, one more hour. Then again, maybe I wouldn’t really do anything at all. It’s been a good life, and I’ve made my peace with that. There’s more I would do, but now that’s left to others. Only so much time.\n\nI think, perhaps, that I’ll have them prop me up against the window so that I can rest my forehead on the cool, clear glass and look out at the garden again. How many years ago was it that I saw you out there wrangling with the kids? I can’t seem to recall, my dates have all gone from me.\n\nOh how I loved you, how I really, truly loved you. I only hope you knew.</font>\n\n<FORM><INPUT Type="button" VALUE="Back" onClick="history.go(-1);return true;"></FORM>\n