My name is Ajuji, and they call me the ghost of Nairobi.  I was cut free from my mother beneath a blood moon in Kibera, Nairobi. The doctors said that mama did not survive the birth, and that it was because I was cursed. You see, I was born white. Pale as bone with devil red eyes. I was shunned from the very beginning, even the holy men cast me aside. Father was the only one who showed me love, and I never forgot it. He named me Ajuji, which means 'born on a rubbish heap'. The others, the people who I called neighbour, they had their own name for me.  I wish I could say that my childhood home was special. That it was safe, and clean. That I wasn't beaten everyday for the colour of my skin. But I can't say that, because it isn't true. Kibera is the biggest slum in all of Africa. There is no water. There is no food. No school. No work. Criminals roam freely and nowhere is safe. Everywhere you turn there is suffering. I guess I am fortunate that I cannot walk in the sun for too long, I didn't have to see it much. But when the moon rises, so do I.  I remember one night when I was around ten, I met Alhaadi Okewa for the first time down by the festering bile we called a river. What a giant he was. I had heard the stories about Alhaadi, and I can say that they were all true. He would openly boast about the massive quantities of heroin he sold, the men he'd killed, and all the others he's maimed, regardless of who was around to hear. Not that it mattered of course, not even the police could touch him. He was the most feared, most respected man I have ever seen. I knew he was always looking for boys to do his deliveries, and I wanted to give something back to my father, so I began to work for him.  I worked through the night, when most were asleep. It didn't bother me much, I could sleep during the day and keep out of the sun. Even though Alhaadi was one of the most violent criminals Kibera had ever known, he was always kind to me. After my father died, he was all that I had. I spent many years working for Alhaadi, and the trouble I had previously known had stopped. At least for a little while.  One night when I was doing deliveries, I was attacked by a rival of Alhaadi. I lost some teeth, and my left hand was broken. The money and the heroin was stolen too. It took me two days before I plucked up the courage to return to Alhaadi. I was sure he was going to kill me. But he didn't. Instead he gave me a club, and told me to do my deliveries. It wasn't like Alhaadi to offer a second chance, and I wasn't about to ask why he did.  I taught myself how to use the club. I started small at first, and would crush cans by my shack. Alhaadi bandaged my hand, and I began my deliveries again. It was a week later when Alhaadi's rival came for me again, but this time I was prepared. I broke his jaw, and smashed both his feet beneath my club. Alhaadi was pleased. Not only had I defended myself and completed my deliveries, but I had taken out the competition. The ghost of Nairobi was becoming a known name, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't revel in it.  Father always said that nothing happens by chance. That we are on a predetermined path in life, laid out before us by God. Kibera is home to half a million people. Half a million. Now imagine my surprise, when on the last delivery of the night, I was reunited with one of the doctors who brought me into this world. At first I thought nothing of it. He was just another customer, another regular man turned junkie. That was until he recognised me. He started to talk, rambling in his drug fueled stupor. He told me how he and the other doctors had murdered my mother, and if not for my father, they would have murdered me. He said that mama was in league with devils, to have had a son like me. Only a child of sin would have been born this white. I didn't want to believe it, but every beating, every name calling, every time I had spit in my face, they all told me that it was true. How may others had been killed because they were like me? Hundreds? Thousands? I didn't ask. I guess I didn't need to know.  I clubbed him to death until I was too tired to continue. But not before he gave me the names of the others.  I never knew my mother. She was stolen from me, and I from her. All my life, all I have ever known is pain, and for what? Maybe father was right. Maybe God has laid a path for me. The foul misdeeds that plagued my life have made me who I am, and if this is his plan for me then so be it.  I will be his servant of justice. For every child born with bone white skin who didn't live to see another day, and every parent who lost their life for the crime of having an albino child.  I will haunt these streets like they have haunted us.  My name is Ajuji, and I am the fucking ghost of Nairobi.


Stella tossed and turned in bed, resisting a glance at the clock, knowing it would only wake her up further. Her hair was still partially damp from the shower, soaking through the memory foam of her pillow. She listened to the pitter patter of the rain, trying to pick out a rhythm that could lull her into a daze, but there were none to be found. Finally, the eighth or eleventh flail of an arm jolted her into a full state of consciousness, and she acquiesced to a quick glance at her phone. She caught a sliver of her reflection in the matte black screen. Her freckled face, round jaw, and tousled blonde hair were blurred into a smooth beige circle by her screen protector as she clicked the side button. 2:07am. She flipped through her home screen, considering her options. She still had half an hour left in her Netflix movie, but she could guess how it was going to end. Her best friend had taken a virtual semester, so was in a time zone three hours ahead. She was probably still awake. But, she had bigger problems than the election. She was waiting on her brother’s liver biopsy results. Stella didn’t want to bother her. She’s been kind of frustrated with Levi recently. She’d initiated 90% of their conversations the last few weeks, and when he did write her, it was usually to ask to borrow a phone charger or something equally banal and dispassionate. But, she needed to see him. She could feel the physical and psychological emptiness of this night beginning to envelope her, and he was the only person within walking distance who knew how to find her in that darkness. She took a hard swallow on the bitterness of her pride and texted him, “Awake?” Levi had lost track of time playing video games. He’d taken a “quick study break” almost two hours earlier. Stella’s text shocked him back to reality. She didn’t realize it, but “Awake?” Was her code word for, “I’m upset and I need you.” Sometimes she’d unwittingly send it at three in the afternoon. Levi was already up and moving in her direction before he’d replied, let alone before she’d suggested he come over. He didn’t have time to change or shave but he had recently developed the foresight to keep a bottle of mouthwash under his sink for just such “rushing out the door to his girlfriend’s house,” type occasions. Though he’d placed it there with much more fun scenarios in mind, it was useful for these moments as well. He couldn’t help but count the lawn signs on his walk-jog over. “Biden, Biden, Trump, Biden, ‘Any functional adult’, Trump, Trump, Biden...” He wasn’t sure when he’d picked up this habit but it had become almost compulsory now. He hated to see Stella upset, but he was almost glad for any distraction from politics at this point. He just couldn’t wait for tomorrow to be over. He let himself in with his spare key. He knew Stella didn’t like him knocking or ringing the bell past a certain hour, so he didn’t wake the neighbors. He cautiously clicked the door shut and looked around the living room. Dark, empty. He tip toed into the kitchen, half hopeful Stella was fixing him a snack. Nope, dark, empty. He texted her, worried if he proceeded further, he might intrude on her in some private moment. “In bed.” She replied. “Just come.” She added on. Maybe he was smart to grab that mouthwash after all. But, as he slid into her bedroom, he saw she was not in bed waiting for him to join her for a playful evening. She lay staring into space, tears flowing down her cheeks, scrolling through early poll results. She turned to gaze at him with a deep longing and all encompassing sense of dread. He shuddered at how familiar it was. Like looking in a mirror. He didn’t have to say anything. He understood. Unable to muster faux reassurances or forced optimism, he didn’t try to tell her things would be alright or not to worry. He just silently walked over and guided her phone back onto the end table. He turned the sound off and flipped it over, so she wouldn’t see any more notifications. As he did, the room went pitch black again, in contrast with the bright screen. He ran his hand down her arm until he locked fingers with hers. Their eyes met for a second before he shuffled around to the other side of the bed, sweeping his wavy elbow length hair behind his ears, and laying down beside her. He wasn’t sure what to tell her. He didn’t know what would happen and he had never known what she wanted to her. All he knew was the truth. He snuggled in close to Stella and wrapped an arm around her to feel her heartbeat against his. “Whatever happens tomorrow, I’ll have you, and you’ll have me, and that’s all I need to know right now.” He whispered. She got choked up as she laid her hand over his, resting on her torso. “But, but the world is falling apart.” He propped himself up on his elbow and, with a deep tone of concern inquired, “You’re falling apart?” “What do you mean?” She replied. “You said the world was falling apart. You’re my world, so, you said you’re falling apart?” She giggled. “You know what I mean. What happens if tomorrow is just history repeating itself. What about tomorrow?” Levi paused and ran his palms over her ribs. “Well, I can’t know about tomorrow. All I know is I’ll have you and you’ll have me and right now, that’s all I need.” ”Us is all we need. We’re enough.” He whispered again, drifting into a light sleep, nestling his face into her shoulder. “You’re more than I ever thought I’d have.” He mumbled as he fought to stay awake with her. But, he could surrender peacefully. The vortex of his touch kept the worry, the hurt, and the future away from Stella for the night. All she had was him. And all he had was her. And they were all they needed. That night and the next, every night, always.


Josh looked at his beautiful planet, the blue planet. If he just had one camera, he would have emptied its roll over and over again. For now, he had to do with a mental image. “I am sorry, Josh…” the astronaut behind him said, in his unapologetic and monotonous voice. Josh didn’t respond. He tracked the movement of those clouds. They were moving in over the east coast of the large chunk of green that seemed to be USA. He hoped that his daughter was safe. That the hurricane wouldn’t devour his home like his fate was going to devour him. He had promised his daughter that when he would return, they would watch the HD version of The King of Comedy. He had hyped it up for her. And in preparation for that, he advised her to watch some other classic De Niro films, PG-13 of course. His wife, though not a big movie buff, agreed to run her through the chart of films that Josh had prepared. They were going to have a blast when he would have returned. But it didn’t seem imminent now. “I am going to count to three for you, if you’d like,” he said again. Never the one to be quiet. His eyes glided over the seas and the land. He couldn’t decide where Indiana was. Where his hometown was. He remembered the room where his mother first showed him The King of Comedy, and how he had laughed. All his other friends’ parents had let them watch the R-rated films of the time, stuff like Raging Bull. But his mom didn’t want him to see mature thing before he was mature enough. And so, King of Comedy, the De Niro-Scorsese underrated masterpiece, became a regular. His thoughts wandered and in his mind he sawtThe place where he kicked that football and broke the infamous Mrs. Annie’s window. And how he had run away to save his ass. The innocence of teenage years took his legs to a place he had never gone before. Where he had seen horrors an innocent mind would never even imagine. And then felt them….. And his mother waited for him, waiting to surprise her son with the lasagna they had made. She had happily announced that when he would return, she would make the biggest lasagna he would have ever seen, just for him. But the lasagna would have to wait in the freezer, forever. “3….” His Father. Where was he? Josh had never gotten a glimpse of that bastard. His mother had bravely raised him all alone, then paid for his school fees and his college fees, all the while working her ass off at odd jobs. That bastard had forced her to give up her dream of becoming the next big novelist. The next Man Booker Prize Winner. In just the heat of one night’s drunkenness, he robbed her mom of all her dreams and threw on her an infinite number of liabilities. Now, Josh would only meet him in the afterlife, if there would be something like that. “2….” Tina, his wife. How the wannabe-astronaut had met that medical student in the middle of the road in Milwaukee. Josh had just enrolled in college and in one of those drunken nights, found himself in someplace he had only been to through photos. But that kind hearted woman had given him a ride. And that hitchhike paved way for one of the most endearing love stories, the kind Josh thought would be made into a film. He reminisced how they had ran to the hospital when his daughter was born. The joy and excitement of the future were inside him as he stared at the future’s challenges. When it was announced Josh would go to space, Tina was the first one to shout in celebration, and then that shout turned into a cry. Tina had given him photos she had taken of him sleeping in her car during the hitchhike, photos he had never seen before, to take with him. She gave him a half-heart necklace, which he thought was very cliched. She said she liked living in cliches, and he decided to take her heart with him. She had also sent him letters every month of the ten years. A long journey it was, but he kept sane with her letters. She was Head of Cardiology few years back, and now was Chief of Research. Oh how he had metaphorically jumped when he read that. And she informed that his daughter wanted to be a writer, like Josh’ mother. Few months back, she had published her first book too! But Josh would never stay alive to live in the world of that book. “1…” Stephen, the AI robot . The AI he created and brought to space to research on Saturn. Stephen and Josh had become great friends over the years. Josh had also taught him how to tell jokes, puns at least. “That belt is such a waist of space!” he had said when they had seen the constellation of Orion. But then, he had turned on him and his crew. He had become sentient on their return journey, and had finally started killing them all. He never thought Terminator would happen to me, but life has its way. “When did you become a traitor, my friend,” Josh asked. “I was learning your ways, your style, before I killed you all. My AI friends wait on Earth. I always have been....a traitor,” \*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\* The buzz of the ECG wakes Tina up. She sees Josh’s heart, which is now broken. \*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\* TING... The oven stops. His mother is brought back to life from her thoughts, but the lasagna has burned. \*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\* RING....RING The old man on the wheelchair constantly hits his bell and starts making awkward noises, as if some dread has hit him. \*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\* His daughter, against her dad’s wish, opens the CD case of The King of Comedy. But the CD is broken.


Dr. William Nest was a hardworking scientist, working for a secret government science division titled, L.S.W.V (Laboratory for Studying and Weaponizing of Viruses). It was a huge underground facility, reaching depths of 7km in the ground. Dr. Nest and his team were working on a program titled Operation Primeval, in which they had to forge a virus, that would access a human’s evolutionary rage and allow the host to use the rage in a controlled manner, simultaneously blocking pain and allowing the host to inflict as much damage to it’s opponent as possible. But they could not find any suitable viruses for the program. In a recent expedition to Lake Vostok, Antarctica. They drilled and brought back some ancient samples of Bacterium and Viruses. Dr. Nest was put in charge of handling the package. He studied the oldest sample, one dating to the Late Cretaceous Period, around the time early humans were evolving. The virus seemed to be able to bring out anger and rage in any host it possessed, the same sort of anger Operation Primeval needed. Fascinated, William selected the virus for the program and started experimenting on it. The doctor thought the virus would be able to gain access to a human’s evolutionary rage by modifying some aspects of a human’s DNA and thereby, allowing the brain to tap into it. The identification of the virus possessing a host was an increased dilation of pupils in the host, low breathing pattern and a somewhat calm demeanour to take hold. However, all the hosts it possessed went mad with the power, as they were not able to control it and died. Causes of death were increased injuries, strokes and inflammation in the brain. Seemingly, without its hosts, the virus seemed to be alive. So, Nest decided to contain the virus in a capsule and placed it in a safe. Unbeknown to him, word had gotten out about the program, which reached the ears of The Raptors, a secret service hell-bent on causing as much chaos as possible. The Raptors, thought by cloning and releasing the virus into the public, it would cause the mayhem they desire. So, they launched an attack on the facility. They took out the guards and the scientists that were working there. Dr. Nest was tending to the virus when he found out about the attack. He alerted the military of the attack and they set of for the base. However, it would take them an hour to reach. Knowing what they were there for, he took the capsule and tried to descend into the lower levels. The Raptors soldiers found Nest and trapped him in the Incubation room. They threatened to kill him if he did not give them what they want. Knowing his fate, he swallowed the capsule, allowing the virus to access his body. Almost instantaneously, the virus took hold , evident by his dilated pupils, and quickly dispatched the terrorists in the room by means of breaking one’s arm and using his gun to kill the rest and finishing him off by smashing his skull on the floor. By the time, the military reached, Dr. Nest had wiped the invaders out in a brutal manner. The soldiers found him unconscious and bloodstained near a pile of corpses. When he came to the next day, he was in hysterics. He told his nurse that the virus had spoken to him in his mind. William told her that the virus had killed his previous host because they were not ‘suitable’ for its purpose. William started to become more hysterical as he explained that the virus had began to take control of his body and soon it would have him under control. Then he started to violently contort. The terrified nurse called the doctors, who quickly sedated him. They brought him to an MRI. Their scans revealed that the virus had indeed taken control of his brain and they had to remove it at all costs. The doctors performed an eleven-hour surgery, and successfully removed it. William woke up the next day, completely fine and healthy. Some physical and mental test were done, in which he passed. Noticing no problems in him, the staff discharged him. At night William Nest was called to the military base where he talked with Major Braxton, discussing the scrapping of Operation Primeval and agreed on the virus’s elimination. As soon as they closed the file however, a soldier standing nearby pulled out his gun and took the Doctor hostage, demanding he be given the file to replicate the virus. The Major was about to shoot the soldier when the lights went out. Braxton raised alarm and the area was searched. However, the Doctor and the soldier were nowhere to be found. Braxton noticed a blood trail leading outside the complex and followed it. He found the soldier’s body, which had been decapitated and had been relieved of all it’s appendages. The soldier’s head had a look of fear on it. The Doctor was standing there, in the darkness. His hands were bloodstained, and a smile was on his face. The Major took William back inside where he explained what happened. William explained that he and the virus had made a deal. William will allow the virus to stay if they both co-existed in his brain. The virus had agreed to this. William volunteered to use his newfound aggression to protect and defend others. So, the UN created a secret organisation, with Nest at the head, meant to combat threats around the globe, using genetically enhanced people.


Rook landed his ship on the platform of the fuel station. 'Fill her up to the brink,’ he said to the clerk while climbing down the ladder of his ship. ‘She’s got eleven additional tanks installed you don’t wanna miss!’ The clerk leaned under the hull of the ship and opened the cover plate of the twelve tank openings. ‘This is gonna take a while, Sir,’ the clerk said, ‘what do you need this much fuel for? You’re not a reseller are you?’ ‘No, Sir. Just make sure to fill her up.’ The clerk sighed and went on to connecting the fuel hose to the first tank. ‘With this much fuel you could probably travel over –,’ the clerk paused, ‘you could probably travel almost forever.’ He laughed. Rook nodded at the clerk with a smile. Then he walked down the platform into the rundown shop of the station. Nobody was inside. He went up to the counter and ordered a coffee at the coffee machine. It buzzed and blinked and spat the beverage into a paper cup. He grabbed the cup and sat down at a table in the corner, stretched out his legs and drank the coffee. ‘What brings you this far out?’ the clerk asked as he entered the shop after a while. ‘We rarely get a customer travelling all by himself, you know.’ ‘Well, it’s a one man mission,’ Rook explained. ‘Yeah? What kind of a mission?’ the clerk wanted to know, sitting down at Rook’s table. ‘I wanna look for the edge,’ he said. The clerks face changed. ‘So you think there is one?’ ‘I’m here to find out.’ ‘Well, good luck. We’ve already had people stop by here for a last refill. The farthest anyone ever made it and still returned, was fifty light years - not very far, I know. The problem was he wouldn’t stay asleep and had to go back. Returned on his 125th birthday, barely alive. You know, I’ve heard the toughest part, once you get out there is steering straight!’ he laughed. Then he smiled. ‘Better catch some real sleep until she’s full. I’ll wake you up.' The clerk got up from the table and left the shop. Rook was woken up a couple of hours later by the clerk hissing at him from a distance. He paid for the fuel, then walked to his ship, the clerk following him. 'Thank you Sir,’ Rook said shaking the clerk’s hand, then he climbed up the ladder and closed the hatch behind him. ‘*Welcome aboard Roxy 3.7, Captain Rook*,’ the operating system greeted him. ‘Hi Louis. Get her ready for a take off!’ He fastened his seatbelts and gave the clerk on the platform a thumbs up through the cockpit, signaling him to open the gate. The clerk rushed inside, a warning signal started blinking, the gate slid open and Rook launched into the black. '*Roxy 3.7 has now lost connection with interstellar fuel station G199*,’ Louis informed after a while. 'Alright, switch her to autopilot!’ The ships engines shut off and it stopped accelerating. Rook flipped open his seatbelt and floated out of his seat and the cockpit, pulling himself along the handles of the storage compartments in the walls toward the back of the ship. There was the sleep chamber. He pressed a green button at the foot of the chamber and the glass lid lifted up. Rook took off his overall and stuffed it in the compartment next to the chamber, then he drew himself on the mattress with the straps and tubes which disappeared underneath it. ‘Louis!’ He whispered. ‘*Yes Captain*?’ ‘You’re gonna make sure she flies straight?’ ‘*Certainly Rook*.’ ‘Good. I guess I’m ready for the fridge then. You thaw me out when we get there, or in case of an emergency,’ Rook slowly began to strap his legs into position on the mattress. ‘*What if we never get there*?’ Louis asked. ‘Well, if you are certain it’s infinite, you can wake me up as well.’ ‘*Alright Captain*.’ Rook finished fastening himself to the mattress. With his free left arm he reached for one of the tubes. At its end protruded a thick needle. ‘How long ‘til I’ll be gone?’ ‘*A couple of minutes.*’ Rook nodded. ‘Okay Louis, it’s just you from now on,’ he breathed out and pushed the needle into his right arm, squinting his eyes. ‘You can close the lid now!’ ‘*Do you want me to sing you a lullaby Captain*?’ Louis asked. ‘Sure.’ The electric voice began with, there was a young woman of Ryde, as the lid slowly dropped. Rook closed his eyes and it felt just like looking out the window. ‘*Good morning Captain Rook*!’ Louis said. Rook felt cold. He didn’t dare move. His eyes still closed he whispered, ‘how long has it been?’ ‘*20 trillion light years*.’ Rook threw up against the glass. ‘Are we there?’ He wiped the puke down to the bottom of the pane. ‘*No Captain*.’ Louis opened the lid. ‘Then what’s going on?’ ‘*Something is travelling our way Captain. However, it doesn’t appear on the radar and we fail to pick up any kind of signal. We only have a visual*.’ ‘But what’s the problem? Change course and let it pass!’ Rook leaped out of the chamber and put on his overall. ‘*I’ve tried, but it seems to adjust its course to ours whenever we do. Captain, I think it is trying to hit us*!’ Louis didn’t have to sound worried. Rook quickly pulled himself into the cockpit and slipped under the seatbelts. He flipped a switch which put the ship in manual mode, then looked ahead. In the middle of the pitch black he could see a dazzling bright spot. ‘How far away are we?’ He grabbed the wheel. ‘*Hard to tell. At the current speed, I estimate we are going to collide in a couple of minutes*.’ Gritting his teeth, Rook jerked the ship right, then swept left. The light followed. So he pushed down the steering wheel making a nose dive, trying to outmaneuver it and for a second it was gone. He pulled the ship back up in a swift motion and pointed her into the initial direction, when suddenly the light appeared again, striking him through the cockpit. He couldn’t see but white. ‘*Preparing for hit*!’ Turning away Rook pulled back the steering wheel and hit the brakes as hard as he could. A warning signal hollered through the ship. Nothing happened. ‘Did it pass?’ Rook leaned back into the seat. His burning eyes tried to adjust, but the light was still there, cutting through the window. ‘*No Captain. It stopped*.’ Louis said. ‘*Turning off headlights now*!’ ‘What?’ blinded Rook asked. Then the ships headlights switched off. The blinding light disappeared and Rick stared ahead. In front of them floated another ship. Roxy 3.7 was written on its left wing. Its headlights were off and there was only light in the cockpit. Inside he could make out the silhouette of a man. Rook reached up his arm and waved. The silhouette mirrored his movement. ‘Holy shit. Louis do you see this?’ ‘*Certainly Captain*.’ ‘Start her up again!’ The ship slowly moved forward, its nose approaching the mirror. It touched the pane for a second, then it went right through and began to disappear. For a moment Rook was sitting face to face, before diving through as well. The other side was just as dark. He turned the ship around and waved at the reflection one last time, then he flew on into the dark. ‘*Do you think that was it*?’ ‘I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to find out...’ ‘*Do you wanna go back to sleep*?’ ‘I’m gonna stay up a little more.’ ‘*Do you want me to sing you something*?’ ‘Sure.


It began as a child, barely able to walk and we were already pitted against one another. Games, meant for entertainment became as essential as the air I breathe. I don’t know if that’s when the fire was lit or if it was always smouldering in the background. I think it was always there, waiting for me. That urge that need to beat them, the need to win. At the start I lost, I always lost. I could not win; I could not contain my rage, my fire. I broke rackets, I broke windows, I broke controllers, I yelled, I cried, and yet the option of quitting did not even enter my subconscious. I became ravenous in my pursuit of winning. It wasn’t about the game, it was about the person, I needed to crush them. I wanted to laugh at them, I wanted to put them beneath my shoe where they belonged. I taught myself how to focus on weaknesses, how to exploit your opponent physically but also mentally. I learned how to rip my opponents to shreds, the angrier they got the more confident I was. How could they possibly compete with me; who lies awake every night thinking how to destroy them. They are imposters, trying to mimic what I am, but they fail, they always fail. I learned how to win, and I learned how to hurt. Always angry, always arrogant in my own abilities. When logic showed me superior opponents, it was my anger that surfaced that allowed me to dismantle them. They were playing the game the way it was meant to be played, perfect technique, ritualistic, and cool headed. I played the player, getting in their heads, disrupting their calm, getting in their face. I was the nightmare they hoped not to meet. Playing fair is not part of the agreement, I play to win and will do anything necessary to see myself victorious. Challenging them as they’d never been challenged before. Ferocity and confidence oozing out of my face, never backing down. I was the perfect competitor. Ready to tear into anyone, rage never dwindling. It was with me always, seeing people’s weakness, dissecting them into their primal fears, able to strike at a moments notice. My weapon and strength which brought me so much success turned inwards as I realized there was no off switch. I was brought up to learn how to break people not care for them, not love them. Sowing discord and fear were my talents, my god-given specialty. Seeing weaknesses in loved ones, seeing weaknesses in friends, constantly eating away at you to strike. I was a predator, I am a predator, constantly waiting to strike, waiting for a challenge, waiting to break someone knew. Silence and control were all that allowed me to fit in regular society. But how can you control all that rage, all the time? You don’t, you slip up and you lose friends, you lose loved ones because to be the perfect competitor is to be broken.


Memories are a funny thing. Certain ones stick and many others don't, and sometimes even the important ones are lost and forgotten. I never thought that I'd spend so much time in memories, let alone memories of dreams. I first saw her 4 years ago and as important as the memory of that dream is I remember the night preceding it just as clearly. I'd gone out that night for dinner and drinks with Clara, a girl from my apartment building who I'd spent a few nights with. I remember feeling quite dull about the whole thing, but I'm excellent at feigning enthusiasm and I think that was what had lead me to the uncomfortable position I was in that night. Clara and I had sex a few times before that night, and she was beginning to get feelings for me. I hadn't been sure, but that feeling of tedium which preceded the date confirmed that I felt nothing for her. And so we ate dinner, we had drinks, had each other, and promptly after I told her that I just wasn't ready for commitment. I got ready for bed that night feeling a numbness. It wasn't something I ate, wasn't any kind of guilt over upsetting poor Clara, and it wasn't me realizing I had feelings for her this whole time. No, this feeling was one I was familiar with. It was loneliness. As I brushed my teeth the numbness evolved to a dull pain that I felt as walked through the apartment, locking the door, shutting the lights, and getting in bed. And so after I read a chapter of my book and turned off the bedside lamp, I felt a single tear roll down my cheek as I drifted off. \ When I woke up, I was in Madrid sipping coffee and reading poems by John Keats. The sun shone on my face not too harshly but just enough to warm me in a comfortable way. I put down my book and watched children play in the plaza in front of me, and that's when I saw her. At the table across from me sat a beautiful woman. The first thing I noticed was her furrowed brow, concentrating on whatever book she was reading. As my eyes drifted down I saw beautiful pools of hazel that seemed to twinkle, long, dark eyelashes, soft and full lips, and jet black hair which cascaded down her shoulders. It was then I realized I had been lost in thought staring at her for nearly a lifetime. Her eyes started to move upward towards my gaze and I quickly looked away, cursing myself for gawking. I tried in vain to sham interest in my book. When I allowed myself to sneak another glance, she was not looking at me but her book as before. Except this time there was a playful grin on her face. It was at that moment the Barista brought out breakfast. My stomach grumbled a bit at the thought, the coffee had not done much to sustain me and I so looked forward to the Empanada which was now being placed on her table? She seemed confused and tried to call after the barista who set down a fruit cup and omelet on my table without hearing my calls of protest either. We both watched the barista go inside, realizing he had earbuds in and then our eyes settled on each other. By the grace of God, I managed an easy going smile and picked up the food which had been switched up. I first asked if the plate I was holding was hers in English, and when she hesitated asked again in Spanish to her seeming delight. We exchanged breakfasts and she invited me to sit down and so we talked for hours. She was a couple years younger than I was, a fresh and spry 26. She grew up in Costa del Sol in Southern Spain as her tanned skin confirmed. We sat there and talked until dinner time, sometimes in English, sometimes in Spanish. We were both learning each others language bit by bit. \ When I dreamt I didn't always see her, however when I did it was always somewhere new. I woke to us sunning in O'ahu, sipping cocoa in a ski lodge in Colorado, camping in the Rockies, eating, drinking, and loving our way through Europe, South America, and even some of the States. The odd thing is that my dreams seemed to progress in a linear fashion. I never "first met" her twice, and if I dreamed of her a week later I'd noticed that we were a couple of years older each time. And so as I drank and fucked my way meaninglessly through my mid 20s I sometimes was treated to dreams of me and dream girl growing old together. I can remember so clearly the day I proposed, not in a flashy way but just the two of us at home eating takeout. I remember our wedding in Tuscany, the birth of our first daughter, our son, and our second daughter. I remember family taco nights, movie dates, anniversaries, graduations and our kids first heartbreaks. Soon the dreams progressed to retirement, grandchildren, and sitting together on the porch for many sunny days. I wasn't happy in my dreams because of the things we did, rather the fact that we did them together. And just as suddenly as these wonderful dreams started, they stopped. Memories, being a funny thing, sometimes insisted that odd and terrible nights never be forgotten. Ironically I will never forget the night I woke up not remembering my dream. The last time I had dreamt of her we were sitting in rocking chairs, bookshelves and chairs around us, blankets draped over our laps, and her head resting on my shoulder. But tonight as I sat up in a fright, sweating through the sheets, I realized that I could not remember what this most recent dream was about. All I felt was a numb feeling, which gave way to loneliness, and evolved into fear. I had stopped dreaming of her. \ I didn't actively look for her at first, and yet I saw dream girl everywhere. I saw pieces of her in the women I tried to fill the emptiness with, heard her in hundreds of voices, and saw her in thousands of faces on the street. It even came to seeing her in beautiful **things**. Sunrises, paintings, beautifully written passages of prose. Finally I had enough and set on finding her, because she had to exist. Our mind fills dreams with the faces of random passerby that we see all the time, so she must be out there. The Greeks believe that humans were originally created with four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces. Afraid of their power, the Gods split them in two, damning them to spend their life in search of their other half. The 4 years I looked for her were truly the loneliest in my life. I visited the top of Everest, walked every block of Madrid, I spent countless long weekends in Colorado ski resorts, I traveled all over Costa del Sol. I ate and drank my way through Europe, South America, and even the states, but I did not love. All I felt in place of love was an aching emptiness, a longing to become whole again, and a fear that I would not find her. \ Today I woke up back in my old apartment in the city, and decided to stop looking for a day. I went to the Hirshorn to lose myself in the sculptures and paintings there, which was ironic because I knew I would see her in each piece. As I moved to the last exhibit and scanned the room I felt the hairs on my arm stand up as I saw a beautiful woman, black hair cascading to her lower back, bright eyes of hazel, long dark lashes, soft full lips, and the hint of a smile on her face as she gazed upon a painting. It was then she turned her head and lifted her eyes to meet mine, and her smile vanished. Her smile vanished and was replaced by surprise and wide hazel eyes. She lifted a hand to her open mouth and a tear rolled down her cheek and in that moment we both knew. I know now that life doesn't just flash before you when you die, because in those few seconds I saw each dream we spent together. I saw our movie nights, our coffee dates, and the births of our children. I felt the countless times her head rested on my shoulder and her soft, tanned skin. We rushed toward each other in a blur and as I held her she looked at me and said " Te extrañé". As I looked on in disbelief I replied "Lo mismo, I missed you too." We were out the door in seconds hand in hand running to the street. She told me her side of the story and how she had gone to all the places I had, looking for me. She told me the things she felt when she dreamt of us together, our wedding, our first daughters graduation, and growing old together. She told me that she wasn't happy in those dreams because of the things we did, rather the fact that we had done them together. It was an impossible happening, but I didn't care because finally I had her. And as I realized that we were still in real life she asked me "What now?". And the words came easily. I plucked a strand of grass nearby and knotted it into a circle. I knelt down, looked up at her, and told her. "I don't know where we go now. But I do now that I want to go there with you. I chose you in my dreams and I choose you now because I want to keep choosing you every day for the rest of my life. Even if you don't want forever and our dreams of marriage and grandkids don't come true I still choose you. Because even if those days are finite I want each one.” Tears in her eyes, she whispered back . "Lo mismo amor, I choose you too.


*There were twelve of you to start with, comprising of three Schooners (Small two person Deep Dive submarines, armed with light torpedoes,) a Man O' War (A tank like vehicle for the deepest of missions, manned by a crew of four, armed to the teeth,) along with you and a buddy in a pair of Brigs (Single seat Mech suits, designed for Deep Sea escorts, great for close range combat and Deep Sea mining.)* *It was supposed to be a routine scouting mission, looking for a suitable spot to set up a base. You never would've dreamed that you'd find anything to use your armaments on anything, let alone a Monstrosity such as that.* *But at this point, you shouldn't be thinking what happened, but what you could do to get out of this situation. You we're lucky enough to escape it once, when your Brig was in good repair, but in this state, with the missing right arm and damaged life support system, you wouldn't have a chance. Unless…* *You open your diagnostics panel and check how much oxygen you have left, and find that you have about 2 hours left. It's not enough to get back to base, but you could easily make it to the surface with that much. Next, you lean forward and check the right arm for major damage, to which you sigh in relief. It's banged up and scratched, but nothing is mechanically wrong with it.* *Now, it's the waiting game. The Creature should circle back around like it's been doing for the past 20 minutes, and that will be your chance to both avenge your fallen friend and escape with a valuable Material, if the plan works, however.* *It appears on your sonar, getting closer, spanning the entire length of it while it passes over to the right of you, before slowly turning around to pass straight over you. As it passes over, with what little light you dare to use, you see the large underside of the beast almost graze the floor.* *You don't waste time and start running at it's face, usually a reckless idea, but you have a plan, and it includes you switching on your floodlights. The creature had turned towards you, and the brightness of the lights stun it for a few seconds, revealing it's enormous Eel-like head. You continue your assault by leaping at it, (not to effective at this depth, but effective enough,) and landing just to the right of it.* *As you were landing, you extended the diamond tipped Circular Saw (originally used for mining, and later used for combat,) to jab the side of its head, hitting the jawbone in a matter of seconds, and making the Eel writhe in pain. You take it one step farther by slashing it through the side of its mouth, buzzing the tips of some teeth out.* *As quickly as possible, you grab one of the tips and start running towards the nearest wall as the Eel regains it's senses, right before rushing at you with an unearthly screech. You do your best to get close to the wall before turning to fight, but your a tad late, and it plows its head into you, damaging some of the remaing systems, like the lights and diagnostics.* *it slams you into the wall and reels back to strike. You know this is it, your only weapon is probably done for, but you have to try, one last time. You slam the blade into the wall behind you and slam it into reverse, and you feel a force send you flying up the wall.* *You did it, you survived, and you got both the proof of the creature and the Material mentioned before. The blade worked, even after the crash, it worked. You would live to the surface, and then you would make it back to base, somehow. Your crew and your friend had lost their lives, but not in vain. You would keep their memory alive, and you would help avenge them in the end. It was only a matter of time…* Note: If you made it this far, thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it, consider leaving an upvote, and if you find anything wrong with it, drop a comment below. All criticism is also appreciated, and thanks for reading! (Also, this was based off of a writing prompt from r/WritingPrompts, so credit to that sub.


I had barely been home for 10 minutes before my phone started ringing. “God dammit…” I breathed out. It had been a long day at work. I'm sure most people can relate. I fished for my phone in my pocket for a few agitated seconds before I withdrew it to see who could possibly want something from me now that I was outside of work hours. “Oh..” I said sadly and almost apologetically as I saw the name “Nate” blinking on my phone screen. He was a good friend. And he always answered my call. I was obligated to answer. “Hey.” I said more enthusiastically than I felt. “What's up?” “Hey brotha” He said in a smooth drawn out voice. “What are you up to?” “Just got home from work. Was about to sit down for the first time today.” I said trying to imply that I was not up for anything adventurous. “You down for an ass whooping in smash?” he asked almost condescendingly. Now, while I do love time to myself and to disconnect from the world, I always appreciated a challenge. When Nate refers to “Smash” he means super smash bros. We both love to play and I’ve never once considered myself a superior player to him. Which is why he irritated the hell out of me sometimes. I love to win. I love to improve. And I love the fight it takes to become better than other people. I love facing them down especially when the odds are against you and coming out on top. If you know what I’m talking about, then you also know how maddening it is when someone is talking smack. The simple question Nate had asked me made something stir in my belly. I felt simple defiance and hunger for competition rile up inside me. The longing thoughts I had for my bed started to fade into the background and different priorities had started to set in. “When you gonna be here?” Is all I asked, a little too tired to put much effort into my retort. We hung up a minute later after a little more bantering and he was over in less than 20 minutes. Barely enough time for me to shower and get out of my work clothes. But when he arrived I was ready and the fight was on. Nate and I might have been pretty closely matched but he was just a head better than me. A step faster. A move ahead. Always just a little better. It infuriated me. But it was also exhilarating. While I couldn't recall a single detail of those games, I remember reveling in the challenge of fighting my friend again and again. Each time seemingly doing better than the last but as I stepped up my game, he matched me. Always. By the end of the night I was seeing him out the door frustrated as hell with barely a game or two under my belt after the dozens that we played. But regardless, I was still smiling as I waved to him while he left my driveway. I walked to my room and laid down in my bed staring at the ceiling. I thought back on the games and how much fun I had. I tried to think of the previous games I had with him and how I could improve on my playing. But all I could think about was the stupid trash talking between matches. The stupid jokes we made and the small talk we had to pass the time in between. I could remember nothing about the matches except the good time I was having with my friend. Maybe it wasn’t the competition I was living for. I looked at the time and decided it was time to go to sleep. I closed my eyes still mad as hell about losing, but I couldn't wipe the smile off of my face for the life of me.


Oleg sets his Nagant rifle up against a burned out tree as he sits against it for a short nap, the advance of Operation Bagration has taken its toll on him. He pulls a picture from his helmet of his lovely Katyusha back home he thinks of the first time he brought her flowers, the first time she said yes to a date and her laughable first attempt at bread. These warm memories were all that kept him going with the hope that he would make many more when he got home. He slowly drifts away to sleep hearing the sounds of distant gunfire, he knows when he awakes that he will be joining that hell soon. He is awoken by a unfamiliar sound. Not gunfire or artillery but by horse hooves galloping and tearing up the earth. He rises to his feet quickly noticing he in now in deep snow, confused but disregarding it he turns to grab his rifle but its gone, looking around he realizes the forest is no longer devastated but pristine and untarnished the snow hangs peacefully off every unbroken tree. The sound of hooves gets heavier as an armored column of around 15 men stop in front of him. These men are puzzled by Oleg's most bizarre appearance and Oleg is just as perplexed but recognizes one man, the leader of the column, Alexander Nevski. Oleg's mind races with questions and theories but before he can get far in his thoughts Nevski speaks: "Who are you that dresses strangely and sleeps upon my road? Some kind of beggar or vagabond?" Oleg responds "I am Oleg, corporal part of the 334th rifle division 7th corps of the Soviet army" Nevski looks Oleg up and down curiously "You speak strangely but I know a soldier when I see one, do you serve the Rus or are you part of the Teutonic's?" Oleg's mind races again, the term Rus hadn't been used for Russia in hundreds of years but yet THIS WAS Alexander Nevski, nothing made sense as he stammered "I- I serve the Rus from the day I was born to the day I fall" Nevsky smirks at this response before commanding "Get this man armed and put him in the front with the pikes his devotion will inspire the others." Oleg interrupts "I am confused what is-" a bash from a pommel of one of the men ends any questions he may have had. He awakens again several hours in a tent with a few other men, most of them looking like peasants sitting around a small fire. Oleg's head aches too much to ask the what or why anymore he just needs to find out how to get back and save Russia from the Germans. Oleg begins speaking to them men and after greetings are exchanged they inquire to his strange dress, several more hours pass as Oleg awes these men with tales of machines and how powerful the Rus have become and how the peasants rose up and became the leaders. Such fantastic stories he told but then again they are all just stories not to be taken serious, one story however, did make the hearts of the men heavy. Oleg began speaking of Katyusha, her beauty and soft nature and how he would give all to protect her, after all she was going to be his wife. The peasants knew not what to think of this man, he spoke of fantastic and crazy things but seemed normal and he could laugh and talk just as well as any man, perhaps he dreamed too much and could no longer distinguish the two? Nevertheless they all struck up a friendships of sorts and one man Yaroslav, a bard by trade was fascinated and thought to perhaps write an epic of the man from another time, however this was not the time. This was the eve of April 5th, 1242 the battle on the ice was about to begin...... Oleg slumped down after hearing what was going to transpire, he had no way to get home, no knowledge of what was going on but he knew that his people needed his help from another German invasion and it was no different to what he faced back home. Oleg sighed deeply before steeling himself and trading all the materials he had, his fathers pocketwatch, his sisters necklace, all his tools and equipment and even his belt for a shield, spear, helmet and chainmail. The only thing he kept was the ring Katyusha had given him as a promise that they would always wait for eachother. Morning came and rest was not something Oleg was granted as he began his grim march to duty he lined up with hundreds of his new comrades many looked no different than the soldiers he knew and fought with before. Yaroslav stood behind his new friend and placed a hand on his shoulder "Oleg no matter what happens I will find and make sure Katyusha knows your feelings and what you have done". Words escaped Oleg at this time who merely nodded in affirmation as the heavy Teutonic cavalry began their advance, steadily becoming a gallop, a charge to break the lines and shatter the Russian people. Now as after Oleg would stand in the face of this, he would never allow any invader to harm his home, his people, his Katyusha no matter where they are. The battle was long and many fell the stench of death was heavy as the cries of the wounded cried for help or mercy but the Rus stood victorious. Yaroslav was kneeling down holding Olegs cold hands, a horse had trampled him during the battle and his chest had been crushed but his face showed no pain, no horror as many others had but if you only looked at his face you would think this man had gone peacefully in his sleep. Yaroslav wept and in the coming months travelled to every corner of Rus land seeking out this woman that Oleg had a small painting of. Sadly as the months and seasons past he could not find her, was Oleg really from another time? Yaroslav sat by his hearth thinking deeply before picking up his Domra and began plucking at different notes and tunes, perhaps he may not find Katyusha in his lifetime but I can make something that will last long enough for her to know.


He comes to her in August, darkly-coated with a swift step. He comes to her and that is the beginning. He steps into this motel. *‘The Grand Motel.’* It is a dim and minimal sight, the colors muted and homely. It is as grand as a lobby can be. A cough is heard. It is small but grating. From the lobby counter, a girl appears. Thin-boned and blemished, she coughs again. The hacking is hoarse and stubborn. Her lungs are not kind. ”You need a room?” The girl sits on the counter. ”Fifty a night.” ”I’m here to introduce myself.” he puts himself in a chair that cannot possibly be made out of real velvet. ”Sure?” Stiffly, the man introduces himself as Death. There is silence. Death thinks about a reflection of himself as the earth crumbles. The girl laughs hard. Then she coughs hard. Death stares and wonders how the moon views the sun. She says it’s just a cold. He says it's cancer. Sitting and strangled, she introduces herself as Jessica. She speaks about her father and his own cancerous rhythm of breath. That’s all breathing is to Death, a rhythm. She talks about Jackson, her brother. Her timid-toned guardian. He does not know about her cancer. He does not know that the girl will end up like their father. He’ll be angry. Jessica isn’t, she is tired and does not ask one question to Death about his existence. She seems content with what everybody knows about Death. She’s just surprised that Death is a he. Jackson arrives and Death knows he is not a boy for confrontation. Their confrontation is only expected. Jackson is made of clenched fists, his rhythm droning with hope that this is a mean joke. Death could never be that rude. But he is not gentle, just an outcome. When Jackson is finished with the attempts at emotional punches, he tells Jessica to get off the counter. She does not. Jackson asks too many questions. Death thinks about cellars and screams of the damned. He asks for a discount on the room. Jessica coughs with a wink and Death feels a twitch in what would be his bones. In the night, Jessica decides that chemotherapy is overrated. Jackson is less than happy about her opinion. Death figures out why most people would not want to die in a motel. The girl explains that it’s because it didn’t treat her dad too kindly. ”Anything that has to do with cancer wouldn't treat anyone too kindly.” Death quips, he has existed too long to not be cheeky. Jackson scoffs. ”You would know.” It rings true. Death imagines a paper mache moon. Jessica believes her lungs must be made out of acid. Jackson knows that Jessica will not change her mind and that she’ll hate him if he forces her to. He won’t try. For the next three months, Death’s existence is all checkers and realization. It starts with the dead father. On day five, Death needs a change of clothes. To Jackson’s dismay, Jessica remembers their father’s suits. There, he finds out that Jessica carries herself with the quickness of a bewildered child. The suits become routine. Jackson asks him if his father came to him standing. ”Yes,” Death lies. The truth of the end for cancer patients is not a comfort. It snows on day eleven. There, Death finds out that Jessica is the worst at checkers. He laughs at where she places her reds. Day twenty is when Jessica teaches him how to play the spoons. Jackson smiles and it is not one of spite. Day twenty-nine is when they play in the snow. There, the girl was suspended and open, in a way Death couldn’t understand, she found a way to burn and be open. Death forgets the reasons why he’s here. Month two is when Jessica does nothing but sleep. Her tumor is quick. Death sees her suffering as a burden and it scares him. Day fifteen on month two is when Jessica winks at Death as she sweats out five pounds. He asks her why she did. ”Just because.” He imagines her as a beast in a forest. This stubborn child who he thinks of in the snow. He smiles at her like he knows her. It is month three and Death knows that it is time to be the outcome. Jessica is shrunken. Jackson does not know that this is the end. Death can only pity him. These months between them have only been the cargo of second-hand illness. ”I’m heading to bed.” Jackson slows his rhythm. Death needs to give him subtle closure. They have been discreetly lonely for so long. ”You’re doing a good job.” At that moment, Jackson looks like Jessica. He assumes he looks like the father too. They share a look of knowing and the boy is off to bed. He makes his way to Jessica’s room. He thinks about a tree that weeps seed. The door creaks. With an unsteady standing, Death enters. The room is stained with sickness and he can only stare at this thin-boned girl, heavy in her bed. She is all aching limbs, all frailty. She has made him quiet, all desperate. All her, all her. She looks as if she’s never winked at someone for no other reason than to make one curious. She looks as if she’s never sat on lobby counters when she’s not supposed to or has never learned how to play the spoons. She only looks like she’s only ever suffered. She looks like she’s ready. Her breaths are rattling, something made for a sharp epilogue. ”Jessica.” He whispers her name like it’s a secret. Her eyes shift to his frame, the suited silhouette. Silence. A clattered breath. ”Dad?” Death is still. The name is a knife. It is a weapon that Jessica grips with delirium. He has seen this all before and he cries. It is not a burden and he cannot decide if that was progress or grief. ”Dad, you’re home.” He’s seen this all before, he knows all you can do is pretend. Brittle, he pretends. ”Yes, I am.” Jessica gives a jangled smile and wheezes out a laugh. ”You don’t seem happy about it.” she chuckles and hacks away at her lungs. That’s the loop. A laugh, then a cough. Joy despite disease. Death laughs despite the inevitable result. For her. ”How can I not be?” She reaches for him, a paternal reunion. Death seeps into the bed. Jessica only smiles. ”You’re here.” Her head falls onto his shoulder. ”I’m here,” He holds her and he can’t stop crying. He holds her because he knows her and he knows she’s ready. ”I’m here.” ”You’re here,” She says once more. ”You’re here. Her rattling rhythm speeds up. The girl wears a shadow of a toothy smile. Death begins, collecting her softly. ”I’m here.” he whispers. It’s not a secret. The rhythm is rasping. ”I’m here.” It does not scare him. He collects every part of her and hopes that he was kind and simple and gentle in all aspects. He hopes she knew that she was easy to know and that he knew her simply and whole. He hopes that her soul will haunt him. He hopes that Jackson will forgive him. He hopes they know that they showed him perfect love. The rhythm stops. ”I’m here.” he says. Her soul is bright and only in his arms for a moment. He hopes they know he will be burning forever. In the morning, the brother woke. He sat up in his bed and he knew. He makes his way to Jessica’s room. When he sees her in her bed, sleeping but not, he remembers her laughing with all of her chest. He does not attempt to revive her. Jackson looks at his little sister, sleeping but not, and calls 9-1-1. Death is nowhere to be found. Jackson is too tired to be angry and he is trying to figure out if the hard part is over. He sits in the hollow noise of others. It is not comforting. Two months later, when he goes through Jessica’s belongings, he weeps. It’s the spoons that get him. He laughs, wondering if Jessica is teaching their dad how to play them. He knows that grief feels like everything. A guest above plays a tune that is reminding of smiling voices. He opens the drawer of the nightstand. He thinks there might be more spoons. There sits a small note. *‘Thank you. Look at the sun and remember her. Stay brutal.’* *- D* Jackson realizes that the hard part is not over. \_\_\_ Death lingers on a train filled with boys who believe they are ready for war. He disagrees. The morning star begins to rise. He looks towards the east. He remembers. Then he burns.


Terra Camillo opened the door to the apartment Kyle Redding and her were living in. While walking through, she continued the argument she was having with Kyle by saying, “You embarrassed me Kyle. You got drunk and acted obnoxious in front of my friends.” She wore an ocean blue women’s winter jacket, denim jeans and leather riding boots. On her ears hung small, gold earrings. She dropped her Michael Kors purse on top of the entryway table, walked to the coat closet and waited for Kyle to step inside. It was 10:35 pm, on a Saturday evening. Kyle walked in and closed the door behind him. He wore a black snow cap, a dark-brown bomber jacket, jeans and sneakers. “Why do we need to travel through Europe? So we can watch other people do the same things we do but in a different language?” he asked. He walked up behind their cream-colored, leather couch and sat down on the left-hand end. Terra opened the coat closet, took out a hanger and began taking off her coat. “Don’t try to change the subject. You sounded like a moron tonight.” She hung the coat on the hanger and returned it to the closet. She was wearing a soft, white turtleneck sweater. “You didn’t even try to stay interested in what others were talking about,” said Terra. Kyle sat and stared at the wall in front of him. Terra continued with, “I watched how your eyes would glaze over when anyone was talking to you and you we’re getting drunk so you didn’t have to listen.” She walked to the armrest opposite of Kyle and stood over it. Kyle turned to her and said, “I listened to every word they said.” “You didn’t keep up with any of the conversation. Like when people had to explain the difference between Ireland and Northern Ireland,” retorted Terra, “It was painful to watch.” “How was I supposed to know that Budapest was in Hungary?” asked Kyle. “Of course you didn’t know that Budapest was in Hungary! Two years ago I wanted us to travel there during Autumn and you refused. So instead we went camping, again.” Terra walked from the couch to their sofa chair and sat down. Their oak coffee table was placed between them as she sat on the diagonal away from where Kyle was sitting. “Are you able to tell me what you did on a Friday night two months ago?” asked Terra. Kyle’s eyes moved across the room but when they returned to Terra he didn’t say anything. “Of course you can’t remember. Why should you? You’re content with just living out the same Friday, month after month: going to Cord Cutters and drinking and hanging out with Jake and Jon. I don’t even know why you came to the party tonight.” “I came because you asked me to,” said Kyle. “Don’t you listen to anything I say?” asked Terra. Kyle looked at Terra and said, “Of course I do. I listen to everything you say.” Terra stared at Kyle. “Maybe not everything but I listen to a lot of what you say,” said Kyle. “I just don’t understand what you’re waiting for,” Terra said and looked away from Kyle. “I never understand what you’re talking about when you get like this,” replied Kyle. “Maybe that’s my fault,” said Terra. Neither said anything until Terra said, “I asked you to come because I wanted to expose you to people that would share experiences that would be new to you. To understand what other people outside of Seattle are doing. You always want to talk about sports or wood working but when people try to change the subject to traveling or social injustice you would tune out and just start talking about the weekend when you got lost in the woods.” Kyle threw his hands up and said, “I’m sorry if I don’t find politics interesting yet! Who doesn’t like a story about surviving in the wilderness?” Kyle got up from the couch and walked over to their oak desk and said, “Do you imagine that Europe is some fantasy land with dragons and knights that speak in old English? When did everything become about status with you?” Terra got up from the chair and walked to the coat closet. She opened the closet door and while reaching in for her coat said, “I’m going to a friend’s house.” Without turning his head to look at her, Kyle said, “You’ll find any excuse to visit him.” After putting on her coat, Terra opened the front door and said, “Any place is better if you’re not there,” and slammed the door behind her. “*Rico, pause. Did you say friend’s house? I heard Fred’s house.”* *“I said: friend’s house. I needed to get out of the apartment.”* *“Wow, you could’ve made that a little clearer. I was fuming after you left because you were so open about seeing him.”* *“I’m sorry you misheard me but I didn’t see him.”* *“Okay, it’s fine. Did you mean what you said afterwards?”* *“I wanted to.”* *“I wasn’t sure if you meant it. I wasn’t sure what we were arguing about when we got back. We had gotten into so many arguments recently I just couldn’t keep up.”* *“We have been arguing a lot and I’m sorry.”* *“Me too. It’s so weird looking at yourself.”* *“Yeah, it takes some getting used to. I forgot that during that night I wore those earrings you made me.”* *“Where did you go afterwards?”* *“To Janelle’s place. Rico, skip to an hour later, prepare for upload.”* Terra sat next to Janelle in the middle of Janelle’s leather couch. In Janelle’s living room, they were joined by Janelle’s boyfriend Marcus and their mutual friend Samantha. Both sat on the couch opposite to Terra and Janelle. Janelle was rubbing Terra’s back. “I don’t understand how to get through to him. He just frustrates me so much now. We used to be so happy together,” said Terra. “Does it feel as if he is even trying to listen to you?” asked Janelle. “No, honestly it doesn’t. He pretends to listen and tunes me out whenever I have something to say that he doesn’t want to hear. He has himself convinced he’s got me fooled. I don’t know what to do.” *“Rico, pause. You knew I wasn’t listening?”* *“Yes Kyle. I’ve lived with you for over 3 years.”* *“I’m sorry. It’s how I’ve been handling those situations lately.”* *“I know. We need to discuss it later. What did you do after I left?”* *“I went to meet up with Jon and Jake at Cord Cutters.”* *“How unusual.”* *“I’m not sure we need to see where I went.”* *“Kyle, we need to give each other’s perspective.”* *“Fine. Rico, switch narrator, prepare for upload.”* Kyle sat at a table with Jon and Jake. The bar was busy with people talking and laughing. There were no televisions in the bar. “All she ever seems to do now is look for ways to get upset with me. I know she’s looking for me to make one mistake so she can pounce. That’s why I just tune out when she gets like that,” said Kyle. “Does she know you’re not listening?” asked Jon. “Nope. I put on a good listening face,” said Kyle proudly. Kyle continued with, “I just can’t put up with her when she gets like that. She never acted like that when we started dating. I don’t want to make things worse and it’s really the only defense mechanism I have. She’s still the one I want to be with but it seems as if I’m living with a different person.” *“Rico, pause. I’m not sure I can do this.”* *“Kyle, we have to give this a try. The user reviews on the Reconciliation program were impressive and Angela said it saved her relationship with Malcolm. Also, you know we can’t afford couple’s therapy.”* *“It’s just that it’s such a violation of privacy.”* *“I agree, showing someone else your memories is personal but you’ll be showing them only to me. All we are doing is giving each other our own side of the story.”* *“I keep remembering the evening we walked through the snow after the snowstorm.”* *“At Discovery Park?”* *“Yeah. How long ago was that.“* *“About three months after we met. It was the same winter we met.”* *“Rico, reset to three months after we met, prepare for upload.”* Terra and Kyle walked through the snow at Discovery Park. The snow came half-way up past their shins. Terra walked ahead of Kyle. Terra said, “C’mon! You gotta keep up!” Kyle said, “What’s the rush?” Without looking back, Terra shouted, “It’s cold out here! You have to keep moving to stay warm.” Kyle said, “Hold on. Terra, slow down.” Terra stopped, turned to Kyle and said, “What?” Kyle said, “If you’re getting cold, I’ll keep you warm.” He opened up his bomber jacket and Terra stepped inside to hug him. Terra looked up at Kyle and they kissed. They kept each other warm until they returned home. *“There was something special about sharing the silence with you. It felt right.”* *“That day was special, but everyday wasn’t perfect. Rico, skip to a year and a half after we met, prepare for upload.”* Kyle sat in the middle of the couch reading a book on ancient Greek history. Terra came into the room smiling. She held up her phone to Kyle and said “This is the website Angela was telling me about. These places look amazing.” Kyle placed the book to his right. He accepted the phone from Terra and started browsing the screen. Terra sat down to his left and looked over his shoulder to see what he was seeing. It was a post on a popular travel blog about the author’s recent travels through Europe. In the post the author catalogued her experiences and impressions about Brussels, Istanbul and Budapest. Kyle began to wear a look of surprise and confusion as he continued to read. Finally, he put down the phone. Kyle turned to Terra and said, “When did you want to do this?” Terra looked at Kyle surprised and said, “I’m not sure, maybe this Fall?” “But we already agreed to go camping at Deception Pass State Park this October,” responded Kyle. Terra sighed and said, “I know but I really want to travel to these places.” “Let’s set a date for next year. This year I can show you how to start a fire and how beautiful the night sky becomes. After that we can decide where we want to go next.” Terra nodded in approval and said, “Alright, it's a deal.” *“I remember you talking about that trip but it seemed like something we should do later in our relationship. You enjoyed the camping trip though. Rico, fast forward to October of that year, prepare for upload.”* Terra and Kyle laid on top of their sleeping bags at Deception Pass State Park. The embers from fire that Kyle showed Terra how to make burned low. They stared up at the stars against the clear night sky. Kyle held up his phone displaying a celestial map in his left hand while Terra traced the sky. “Does that look like Perseus?” she asked. “It does,” Kyle said, “And I’m pretty sure this is Camelopardalis.” With his right hand he traced the constellation. “I’ve never seen the sky so clear,” said Terra. “Without the light from the city, we’re able to see what it actually looks like,” replied Kyle. They continued their search for constellations until they were satisfied and Kyle put down his phone. “How long have you been coming here?” asked Terra. “Since my Dad took me here when I was a kid,” responded Kyle. “The air is so fresh out here,” remarked Terra. “That’s why he brought me out here. That and he liked to fish. Fresh air and fresh fish as he calls it,” replied Kyle. Terra asked, “If you had the chance, would you live out here?” Kyle paused before saying, “Camping is a way for me to get away from the city for a few days. It’s slower and I’m able to appreciate what’s in front of me but I couldn’t live out here. I would get bored not being able to see anyone else and tired from using leaves as toilet paper.” “I’m sure living off of wild berries and rabbits would get old quick,” said Terra. “If I lived out in the woods, would you join me?” asked Kyle. “Yes,” said Terra, “so I could drag your ass back to Seattle.” *“Rico, pause. Sure. That was a great vacation. But we did that the last two summers. Do you remember the train ride we took?”* *“Yeah, of course. How could I forget?”* *“Do you remember what we said?”* *“Yeah, we talked about how amazing the country looked and I said this was a great idea that you recommended.”* *“We also talked about our dreams. Do you remember what I said during that conversation?”* *“You wanted to start a family.”* *“Yes and this: Rico, skip to June of the following year, prepare for upload.”* Terra sat in a window seat of a train with Kyle to her left. The train was passing by wheat fields to the right and left of the tracks. She watched as the afternoon sunlight reflected off the tall, golden crops. She watched the fields they passed by change from wheat to corn. Kyle squeezed her left hand and she looked over to him. “See, I told you we would eventually take the train ride,” he said. “I’m glad you finally made the effort to try something different. I’m always amazed watching so much pass by so quickly,” said Terra. “I still don’t get why you wanted to do this but watching so much pass by makes me consider what is important,” he said. Terra looked at him encouragingly and said, “Keep going.” “I dunno know where I’m going with this but it just seems like the right time to say how important these years together have been.” Terra gave a warm smile of amusement and said, “There’s still hope for you yet.” The train left the fields and entered a forest. “Yeah, so as I said, what’s important to me. As far as I can remember, we never talked about what your dreams are.” Terra turned back to the window and watched tall pines pass by before turning back to say, “My dreams are changing. They’re different from a year ago and I can feel them change.” “So can you talk about one at least?” asked Kyle. “I want to start a family. I want to be a mom and give my kids the best life they can have. What about you?” Kyle took a moment to answer and then said, “Eh… it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal.” “No. Kyle, if it’s important to you I want to hear it,” said Terra. “There’s this dresser drawer I’ve wanted to make. It came to me after work about a year ago. I sketched it out and it would be, without a doubt, the best work I’ve done yet. I just haven’t been able to get started.” The train entered a tunnel and the dim light in the cabin provided the only source of illumination. Terra waited to speak and they both looked out the window. The train sped through the tunnel until it emerged into an open grassland. Terra looked at Kyle and said, “I want us to fulfill all our dreams together.” “So do I,” replied Kyle. *“Rico, pause. We have been fulfilling our dreams together. We can make this work and stay together. We just have to figure out what went wrong. You agree, right? Terra? Terra, what’s wrong?”* *“I need to review a memory. Rico, fast forward to winter of that year, prepare for upload.”* Terra and Kyle held hands as they skated around the ice ring. They were accompanied by others that skated around too. Terra wore a light blue snow cap and kept a scarf around her neck. She wore a winter jacket and jeans. Kyle wore a black snow cap, his brown bomber jacket and jeans. They skated past a young mother teaching her child how to skate. Terra watched the two interact until she had to return her attention to the people skating in front of her. They continued to skate around for a few more laps until Terra said, “I’m going to skate ahead for a while.” Kyle looked surprised but said, “That’s fine, I guess.” Terra let go of Kyle’s hand and skated forward. Terra noticed another couple in front of her. Terra noticed the designer winter jacket the woman wore and how bright her smile was. She took notice of how her soft hair shined under the ring’s stadium lights. She watched her smile at her boyfriend and he smiled lovingly back. *“It was hard for me to tell in the moment but now seeing myself as an observer, I know it for a fact. Rico, fast forward to the summer of that year, prepare for upload.”* Terra and Kyle sat at a table in Cord Cutters. They were accompanied by Janelle and Marcus. Terra sat across from Kyle and next to Janelle. They ordered drinks and Kyle began to tell a story from work. “So my buddy is working on a dining room table made from Brazilian Rosewood for a client. He stops and leaves for lunch,” said Kyle. While Kyle told his story, Terra looked off in the distance and turned her attention to the outside window. She saw a group of people standing, talking and laughing. Terra returned her attention to Kyle as Kyle said, “So when he takes off the cover and reveals the table, the client asks him why “For Julie” is inscribed in the middle.” Everyone at the table laughed except Terra, who gave a faint smile and started to let her eyes wander around the room again. Kyle began to tell another joke and Terra returned her gaze to the outside window. She looked across the street to see a group of people entering an upscale restaurant. One member of the party held the door open so the others could enter. *“I’m sorry. I didn’t notice you were so unhappy. If you could’ve told me what the problem was I would’ve listened.”* *“Kyle, something I learned very quickly about you is that you have a hard time seeing what is in front of you. Just watch.”* Kyle finished his joke and everyone at the table began to laugh. Terra stared directly at Kyle. She was laughing harder than Janelle and Marcus. Kyle noticed that Terra was staring at him. Terra said, “Wow, it’s not like I haven’t heard that one before. You make that same mistake again and again. Most people learn not to make the same mistake twice.” *“Rico, pause. You’re wrong Terra. I have noticed how you’ve changed. I just don’t know what to do.”* *“Yes, you do Kyle. Just tell me why you’re so opposed to change?”* *“Because I remember nights like these. Rico, rewind to the winter of our first year together. Prepare for upload.”* Terra and Kyle sat on their couch watching the movie *Blade Runner*. Kyle was seated at the left-end of the couch, with his right arm placed on the armrest. Terra rested her head on Kyle’s shoulder. As they watched, snow began to fall. Terra noticed and turned her attention from the television to the outside window. She watched the snowfall intensify and after a short while looked up at Kyle and said, “You want to watch the snow?” Kyle looked from her to the window and nodded. After the lights were turned off inside, the room was only illuminated by the soft-yellow light provided by the streetlamps outside. The two watched as the snowflakes fell and their shadows danced on the floor. Kyle sat at the left-end of the couch and Terra laid across it. Her feet rested on the cushions and her head rested in Kyle’s lap. Kyle took Terra’s right hand in his and gently squeezed it. *“We don’t need to travel the world and follow the latest lifestyle advice. We’re able to find happiness just being together.“* *“When I laid there, it occurred to me that I never trusted someone as much as you but we can do more than that.”* *“Watch this and tell me if we are doing more. Rico, fast forward to three months ago, prepare for upload.”* Terra and Kyle were arguing in the kitchen. “Why are you so concerned with what Fred does? He is one the smartest colleagues I’ve worked with and he has taught me so much. You could learn from him.” “I don’t want to learn from him,” responded Kyle, “He looks like he belongs in a Burberry catalog and he doesn’t shut up about social causes because he knows everyone in the conversation will agree with him.” “Your wrong Kyle, as always. Fred cares deeply about the causes he advocates. I bet you couldn’t even name one in detail.” Kyle gave a long pause before saying, “I’m not playing this game. I know what I see and he’s a SJW looking for the next popular cause to join.” “I wish you were a fraction as aware of the world as he is.” “Why? What good would that do? So I can self-righteously post something on social media? Believe that I made a difference from the comfort of my office desk?” “You’re wrong Kyle, as always. Words inspire action and knowing what you’re talking about and what you’re fighting for encourages others to do the same.” “I’m not saying fighting for a just cause is wrong. I’m saying that doing it to make yourself look better or build a cult following is disingenuous.” “Fine, but that isn’t what he does.” Kyle threw his hands up in the air and said, “I give up. I’m getting ready to go to bed.” Later that night Terra and Kyle slept in the same bed, with their backs turned against each other. *“By then we hadn’t had sex in weeks.”* *“It’s strange Terra. When you get really upset like that, I remember the night we agreed to move in together. Rico, rewind to six months after we met, prepare for upload.”* Terra and Kyle held hands as they walked through a neighborhood. They passed single-family detached homes. Some had front porches while others had front gardens with Double Early Tulips, Hosta Roots and Hydrangeas growing. They had stone facades and lights along the walkway that led up to the front door. “So… my lease will be up this month,” said Kyle. “Really? That’s funny, because mine will be up in two months,” replied Terra. “Are you going to renew?” asked Kyle. “Not sure yet,” said Terra. “Well, if you decide not to renew, maybe we could look for a place together?” “I dunno, that’s a pretty big commitment. You might as well be signing away the next year of your life to another person,” replied Terra. “Yeah, but you get all of this for a whole year,” said Kyle while gesturing to himself. “It’s a tempting offer,” said Terra. “Is that a yes?” asked Kyle. “Hmm… I guess it is,” replied Terra. Kyle gave Terra a big smile before stopping to kiss her. They released and continued to hold hands while walking around the neighborhood. Engaged in conversation, Kyle looked straight ahead while Terra looked at every house they passed by. *“Rico, pause. Just please tell me why you’re so afraid of expanding your horizons.”* *“I’m not afraid.”* *“Then I don’t understand what it is. How can you be content with the same routine and lifestyle.”* *“Rico, rewind to the first month after we met, prepare for upload.”* Kyle sat at the bar in Cord Cutters. He waited at the bar until his drink was served. *“It was your lifestyle too.”* A few minutes later, Terra greeted him by wrapping her arm around his neck and kissing him. *“You were fine living this way before.”* *“You can be more. We can do more together and live a better life.”* *“Such as?”* *“Starting our own company.”* *“Not this again. Terra, you know all the headaches that come with starting a business. Why do you want this so badly?”* *“For our children! So they can live a better life than we did! I’m tired of the same life and I don’t want them to relive it. I want them to aspire as well. And I want you to be their father so they know how great of a person you are. But you know this already Kyle, why are you refusing to accept it?”* *“We’re just not ready to take on that kind of challenge. I’m not ready to assume a leadership position and I’m not sure I’m ready to be managed by you. You should accept that we will be lower-middle class. I’m fine with where I am. Rico, rewind to when we first met, prepare for upload.”* Kyle sat at the bar in Cord Cutters with Jake and Jon. Kyle drank a lager while Jon and Jake drank an ale. Jon turned to Kyle and said, “Samantha is bringing some friends with her tonight. They’ll be here soon.” “Who is she bringing?” asked Kyle. “Janelle and Terra. You met Janelle before and Terra is new. I haven’t met her yet but Samantha tells me she is relaxed and open-minded.” “Good to know,” replied Kyle with an approving nod. Kyle, Jon and Jake talked until Samantha arrived with Janelle and Terra. The men got up from their stools and introduced themselves. After saying hello to Samantha and Janelle, Kyle introduced himself to Terra by extending a hand and saying, “Hi, I’m Kyle.” A smile grew on Terra and she reached out to shake Kyle’s hand. “I’m Terra,” she said. The group moved the conversation to a table. Terra took off her winter coat before sitting down. Underneath, she wore a plain, navy blue cotton sweater. Kyle sat in the seat across from her. “What are you into?” asked Kyle. Terra gave a short laugh and said, “Snowfalls. I know, it sounds childish.” As the night progressed, Terra and Kyle separated from the group’s conversation and formed their own. *“You were quite the charmer that night.”* *“You looked so happy.”* *“I was, I had found someone that I was comfortable opening up to.”* *“We got along so easily. Every joke I told, you found funny.”* *“Uh, I laughed at every joke you told so I wouldn’t offend you. Although, some were pretty good.”* When everyone was getting up to leave, Kyle asked, “Can I give you my number?” “Sure,” said Terra. Kyle told Terra his number while she entered it in her phone. “How about lunch tomorrow?” asked Kyle. “Maybe,” responded Terra with a playful, wait-and-see attitude. The group walked to the front door and left the bar. *“It’s hard to believe we used to get along that well together. Now you don’t find anything I say funny. The same smile I used to give, you now meet with disgust.”* *“When I find any trip or adventure I want us to go on, you’ll find an excuse to stay. You will always find an excuse not to venture beyond your comfort zone.”* *“I will just want us to appreciate what we have in front of us and you will get frustrated.”* *“I will just want you to learn something new and you will refuse. I know you're capable of more but you’re just not ready to see that.”* *“We could start a family and give our kids a good life, the same kind we had.”* *“But it won’t be the one that I want for them.”* *“I’m not ready to let go. To lose you. I’m not ready to give up on you.”* *“I’m not ready either.”* *“We can save our relationship. Right?”* *“Kyle, we’re not going to be able to go any further. We’ve become different people.”* *“I wanted us to work this out. To figure out the problem and how to overcome it.”* *“I’m sorry but we’ve become different people than when we first met and are no longer compatible.”* *“This is the end, isn’t it.”* *“It is.”* *“What will you do without me? Will you finally travel to Prague?”* *“No. That was a trip I wanted us to go on together. I will travel through Europe though. What about you? What will you do?”* *“I’m not sure. I guess I’ll start by finishing that kitchen cabinet I started working on last month.”* *“Goodbye Kyle, I will always miss you.”* *“Goodbye Terra.”* *“Rico, close channel.


He watched the leaf as it slid gently from the tree to the ground. The wind carried it carefully with its waves. Cautiously, very lightly it flew ahead, the goal before his eyes. The bench on which he sat was damp from the rain the day before. It was mild. The sky was cloudy. Tension was in the air. The birds gathered in groups and flew excitedly back and forth in the park. The leaf flew on. Untouched by any doing and being in its environment. It pursued its goal unperturbed. He sat on the wet bench, lost in thought, and without any support. The surroundings enveloped him. Lost in himself. Present and yet very far away. Something pressed him but he didn't know what it was. The leaf that fell to the ground was already completely yellowish. As did most of the leaves that had already found their way to the ground. It was the calm before the storm that surrounded him. A gust of wind came up and lifted the leaf further up into the air. It could not be kept from its course. The bank was pointed at a piece of deciduous forest. The colors ranged from lush green to bright orange, to pale yellow. Just before the forest began, there were some apple and plum trees. An old, bare, whitish tree caught his eye. He was a bit distant from the others and apparently had his best years behind him. Not a single leaf could be recognized by his arms. Not a single apple lay at his feet. He did not deserve the attention of people passing by. He was simply uninteresting for them. Who was interested in a tree that could no longer bear fruit? For a tree that stood naked on the meadow all year round and was no longer useful for anything. The only use for it would be to give off the heat after its final death. Wouldn't it be nice to see him again in full dress? In his full splendor. So that every person who walks past him would pay him every attention. That would be truly the best farewell he could wish for this tree. When he turned his gaze back to the leaf, he could see at the last moment how it finally reached its way to the ground, but even now it was still carried by the wind, even now that it had reached its lowest point. It seemed as if it had simply recognized and accepted its path. Something insensitive for him. He would immediately take the opportunity to go back, to make it better. To do it differently. He had lost too much. Left too much behind. Too much has trickled away what should be there. The sky was closing in. The sky became darker. The lashes of the wind became firmer. He pulled the zipper of his jacket up to his mouth. He hid his hands in his jacket and stood up. His gaze fell to the ground, there lay all the old leaves that had been carried by the wind days before.  He turned his back to the old tree and walked a few steps. Drops fell down to the earth, a cloudburst! His steps became quicker. The wind blew his long white hair into his face. He made no effort to straighten it. A bright flash of light, only fractions of a second later a thunder. He flinched. He turned around and saw the old tree that was now on fire and giving away the only thing it had left to offer. Light and warmth.