Post by Admin on Apr 15, 2015 0:24:40 GMT
Hey, Davita, hope you like the new board where our collab can go on separately from other forum escapades. I hope this is abstract enough. It'll pick up.
Irrelevant to those of you who don’t give a rat’s ---, when I was a boy, I got a PS2 for my 13th birthday. Years passed, and I played on that piece of metal and wires a lot. So it was no surprise that the memory card I had on it filled up fast. When it had almost reached its max, I tried to play another game on it, and it told me it wouldn’t have enough unused data for the new game. But I didn’t want to delete any old game data, so I began the game despite the warnings. I realized too far in that the card really was full, and the game couldn’t continue. The memory card that had served me so well over the years had finally reached its very end, and the game stopped mid level. I didn’t get another memory card. I never finished that game.
But it’s just a game anyways. It’s not real. It doesn’t matter.
At 1:10 pm, I was on my way to a fast food place down the street. I was starved and had gone for too long just sitting around my house. I had to get something, go outside at the very least.
As I gazed out my spotted windshield at the midday city street and the high school I was passing by, I realized, out of the blue, just how much time I had auto piloted my life. For months now, I had been dragging myself day in, day out. The same news recycling itself on my TV screen. The same eviction notice returning to pull me down into a lower place to live. The same thoughts were slowly coming and going through my head. Low highs and low lows, I guess. Hadn’t really had a job for a while. Hadn’t been behind my PI desk since January. Wouldn’t see it again I figured.
I sighed as someone honked at me because I’d lollygagged at a stop sign a second too long. I don’t know what annoyed me more – that honking car behind me or my own honking thoughts of trying to get my career back on the rails.
Maybe I could go back to investigating crap. Maybe I could unjam my life. Or ...maybe I could go to McDonald’s for lunch.
I glanced at my car clock which ran satellite time. 1:10. I saw the little 0 turn into a 1 ever so slowly, as if the clock had been sluggishly awakened to change the minute. Another sixty seconds had passed.
It was 1:11 pm, April 16, 2015.
Right as I saw that minute digit change, I thought I heard a familiar sound in the car with me. The sound of someone sighing a gentle, close and distant sigh. Kind of like a Hmm…
A sad, longing sound that made my sight spin for a second and nearly swerve the car into the other lane of traffic.
“What the –! “
That voice? It was unmistakable. I instantly whipped my head around the car, searching for what could’ve made that noise. I was alone… There was no way I could’ve just heard my dead wife’s voice unless I was flat out crazy!
More honks around me. I had to keep my eyes on the road. I was losing control! With a clamped fist on the steering wheel and an iron stare back on the road, I tried to focus completely on not getting myself killed, and gradually, my hammering heart slowed. I kept a normal speed on the street. All the while, I just thought, I am absolutely going crazy. This is it. I’m going crazy.
Then, that voice came back just the same as the day I’d last heard it. Serenity, long gone dearly beloved herself, was speaking softly and painfully, right into my ear as time and gravity around me seemed to dissolve away, “I thought you could be safe. But you can’t leave now. You promised you’d find me again someday. One more time. I’ve been waiting for you here, Ryder. In our home.”
Her words were a deadly paralysis. I could not make myself move. I never let my foot off the gas pedal, even as the grey sonata in front of me stopped. I blasted straight into its trunk, the impact meeting into my body before I saw crushing black. The swirling formations of unconsciousness met the repeating fragment of an unmitigated, powerful thought:
In our home. In our home. In our home. In our home. I promised.
October 6, 2014, the last promise I made to Serenity never went fulfilled. I supposed it would be now.
Irrelevant to those of you who don’t give a rat’s ---, when I was a boy, I got a PS2 for my 13th birthday. Years passed, and I played on that piece of metal and wires a lot. So it was no surprise that the memory card I had on it filled up fast. When it had almost reached its max, I tried to play another game on it, and it told me it wouldn’t have enough unused data for the new game. But I didn’t want to delete any old game data, so I began the game despite the warnings. I realized too far in that the card really was full, and the game couldn’t continue. The memory card that had served me so well over the years had finally reached its very end, and the game stopped mid level. I didn’t get another memory card. I never finished that game.
But it’s just a game anyways. It’s not real. It doesn’t matter.
At 1:10 pm, I was on my way to a fast food place down the street. I was starved and had gone for too long just sitting around my house. I had to get something, go outside at the very least.
As I gazed out my spotted windshield at the midday city street and the high school I was passing by, I realized, out of the blue, just how much time I had auto piloted my life. For months now, I had been dragging myself day in, day out. The same news recycling itself on my TV screen. The same eviction notice returning to pull me down into a lower place to live. The same thoughts were slowly coming and going through my head. Low highs and low lows, I guess. Hadn’t really had a job for a while. Hadn’t been behind my PI desk since January. Wouldn’t see it again I figured.
I sighed as someone honked at me because I’d lollygagged at a stop sign a second too long. I don’t know what annoyed me more – that honking car behind me or my own honking thoughts of trying to get my career back on the rails.
Maybe I could go back to investigating crap. Maybe I could unjam my life. Or ...maybe I could go to McDonald’s for lunch.
I glanced at my car clock which ran satellite time. 1:10. I saw the little 0 turn into a 1 ever so slowly, as if the clock had been sluggishly awakened to change the minute. Another sixty seconds had passed.
It was 1:11 pm, April 16, 2015.
Right as I saw that minute digit change, I thought I heard a familiar sound in the car with me. The sound of someone sighing a gentle, close and distant sigh. Kind of like a Hmm…
A sad, longing sound that made my sight spin for a second and nearly swerve the car into the other lane of traffic.
“What the –! “
That voice? It was unmistakable. I instantly whipped my head around the car, searching for what could’ve made that noise. I was alone… There was no way I could’ve just heard my dead wife’s voice unless I was flat out crazy!
More honks around me. I had to keep my eyes on the road. I was losing control! With a clamped fist on the steering wheel and an iron stare back on the road, I tried to focus completely on not getting myself killed, and gradually, my hammering heart slowed. I kept a normal speed on the street. All the while, I just thought, I am absolutely going crazy. This is it. I’m going crazy.
Then, that voice came back just the same as the day I’d last heard it. Serenity, long gone dearly beloved herself, was speaking softly and painfully, right into my ear as time and gravity around me seemed to dissolve away, “I thought you could be safe. But you can’t leave now. You promised you’d find me again someday. One more time. I’ve been waiting for you here, Ryder. In our home.”
Her words were a deadly paralysis. I could not make myself move. I never let my foot off the gas pedal, even as the grey sonata in front of me stopped. I blasted straight into its trunk, the impact meeting into my body before I saw crushing black. The swirling formations of unconsciousness met the repeating fragment of an unmitigated, powerful thought:
In our home. In our home. In our home. In our home. I promised.
October 6, 2014, the last promise I made to Serenity never went fulfilled. I supposed it would be now.
