I couldn't sleep with her next to me. Her body was cold, hard like marble, but also soft -- like frozen meat. That's all she was now: meat. The light was gone, and I could not sleep curled up next to my dead sister.
I needed to sleep. It would be at least another day before we made it to the border, maybe even two before we hit the safe house. Sonia would start to stink by then. And I would lose my mind if I didn't sleep.
Still, her body next to mine reminded me that it was only...
She could tell I was faking it. The smile across my face only a slight glimmer of what it once was. Telling my wife I loved her used to be so easy; kissing her face, brushing my fingers in her hair. They were all lies now.
I had only just found out a bit ago about her affair. Long done and over with, it had been with a colleague of mine back in 2002. It only lasted a few months and all the while, I had no idea.
It has been eight years since that time, but only now am...
She could tell I was faking it. She can always tell when I'm faking it. Something about the way my eyelids droop slightly, the way I chew at my bottom lip before I talk.
"It looks lovely."
"It doesn't. You're lying." Somehow, she always knows.
"Okay, it doesn't. It's a hideous dress. But you do. You always look lovely."
"Creep." She smiles, and swats at me with the scarf she's about to wrap around her shoulders instead of a coat.
I love the way she looks when she gets ready. How she frowns at the mirror when she puts on...
I don't know how, but she did.
Can't she tell I tried? I really did, no matter what she screams, and no matter how many things she flings at me, or how hard she throws her punches.
My parents say I'm going to hell for what I am, that I'm unnatural and wrong. But how can something so beautiful and pure, be so wrong?
I have to go away tomorrow, they're sending me to some camp to 'fix' me. To make me better or something. Maybe this is for the best...
Day one: It's nice here, I guess. My bunkmate...
Nothing will matter then, everything will be gone. I will stand and watch them all. The humans running about their days with not a care in the world. Not knowing what is about to happen to them. Everything to them is important when really it is just crap. Who cares?
After tomorrow they will be nothing but dust not even a memory on the bottom of my shoe. I have seen this so many times, I have watched and laughed as human race after human race gets cleared out and started again. And each one is just as arrogant as...
As Darvo walked into the glaring sunset on the western horizon ahead of him, he wondered to himself about the Yoga studio he passed by minutes ago. There were so many beautiful women in there doing flexible things that he knew that his own body was not capable of.
Darvo had actually passed by that same Yoga studio almost every day for the past six months when he took up a job as a salesman at the screen door factory next door.
Everytime he walked by, on his way home, he made a point to look inside the window of...
Norman was a doctor. He was a doctor because he was good at fixing things, and at some point in his life he determined that the most important things that needed fixing were human beings. So he became a doctor.
He looked rather doctor-ish, in his trenchcoat, his traveling case of medical supplies and his pattern baldness. He was friendly, having the bedside manner that everyone expected of a good doctor.
The day that the sun became sick, people all over the world panicked. Some rioted, looted, killed one another, for in a world that was nearing its end, one...
Well, I said I wanted it to be a quiet vacation. You can't get much quieter than this. Even if this atmosphere were thick enough to conduct sound waves, I'm the only sentient being on Mars.
Yep, nice and quiet. Finally.
What have I got, eight more? Ten, maybe?
No, eleven. Eleven protein-carbo bars and four liters of water. The fusion pack is good for another twenty-eight years, so if the waste recycle unit continues at ninety-eight percent efficiency...
That means I can keep re-eating my own feces and re-drinking my own urine for another twelve years.
I guess I...
He didn't even pack. He just picked up a satchel and left. He knew it'd been over for a while, but last night was when he was finally able to summon the courage to do it.
When people heard what he'd done, they'd offer their condolences. But he didn't see it as a sad thing. He saw it as a new beginning, as new horizons.
I think I have died.
There was a strange man looking at me, clothed in black with blue eyes gleaming from behind a hood. I tried to peer into the darkness of that hood but could make out nothing save the eyes.
He explained to me that I had died, but not to panic. Death was not as bad as people would have me believe. Rather than the end it was a new beginning. He was here to point me in the right direction, then the journey was my own.
Journey? I knew nothing of a journey. I just guessed...