THE NIGHT FALLS upon us, and the land is dimly lit by the neon-stained sky. The fog from the river is ethereal and travelling over the land like a misty spectre. In the distance, some mutant animal howls a scary lullaby.
I’m here still in this wasteland, and time marches on at the end of the world.
I remember people worrying about their jobs.
They would try so hard to find love and often absolutely destroy each other. Sometimes it was perfect, though. When the right people came together and built a life, it was nothing short of magic.
I never found that in my life before.
Carra Johnston, she was a sight to behold. Her hair shined like silk. (Later I found out it was a wig.) Her eyes soooo green. (Contacts.) She was shaped like an hourglass. (All her.)
One thing I liked about her was how she helped people. When she got older, she became a nurse. She wanted to be a doctor but didn’t want to spend her life going to school. She stayed a nurse, and that’s fine.
Oh yeah, one more thing. Carra was Black. Yep, she was exactly like I used to take my coffee: strong, a little sweet, and black. I was going to tell her that once, but then she told me that she found it weird how people always compared pretty Black girls to food.
If you put it like that, it is very weird. I kept it to myself, but if she were here now, I would tell her. She would know, Even though it is all a mirage of pheromones and shapely lines that told my body, 'Hey, dummy, she can make babies!’
I never had kids. I thought it would be irresponsible with the way the world was. We knew war was coming.
The fat old bastards who ran things robbed us of a future. They had everything, and they still wanted more. They’re all dead, and I’m still mad.
QUIET MOMENTS
My hair-challenged friend is standing next to me as we are loading the buses full of people. The Cowboy has a place to take them where they can live out the rest of their lives safely.
The Demon is floating there in the air, not more than ten feet away. I stand, grinning like an idiot, trying not to look at her. My eyeballs keep betraying me and sliding to the left, stealing glimpses.
IMAGINE ME STANDING THERE
I’m under the colourful sky. I’m very still. My mouth hanging open in my permanent smile. The only thing moving is my wild hair in the breeze and my eyes peeking at her.
“Is your bus loaded?”
The Cowboy’s question broke my train of thought. At first, I was mad that he could turn invisible too and didn’t tell me, but he was behind me. I spun around, then looked over at my bus.
Their silhouettes line the windows. I didn’t feel like talking right now; I’m being reflective.
I give him a thumbs up.
The Cowboy raised both hands and gave me a double thumbs up. He made pistol fingers and shot them both, then blew the imaginary smoke off his finger guns.
I raised my hands up like I was holding a longer weapon and made machine gun noises with my mouth.
We shared a laugh. He patted my shoulder and made his way to one of the buses.
“Drive the bus in front of you.” He says.
Every crush I ever had is long dead.
Some of the people we saved from slavery are driving the other two buses. I’m following behind them. The Cowboy is leading the line. The humans between us.
I could see their circulatory systems in their seats, right through the bodies of the buses.
We wind around the hills. On the lower slopes.
Some mutant hounds run along the mound-riddled landscape. The bony trees wave them goodbye.
SCHOOL SUCKED
I remember being in the schoolyard. Boys were talking about the girls. It was my second year in high school. I listened to their comments and tried to join in:
Boy one: I would like to see her naked.
I examined the redhead, who practically bounced by. She looked so happy. She was smiling and being part of her little click.
Boy two: I would like to have sex with her.
She whispered in the ear of one of her friends. Her plump lips are parted and moving with every syllable of her private, hushed words.
Me: I want to drink her smile and keep it in my belly, so I can always feel that joy she has.
Both boys looked at me like I had two heads. (I checked. I didn’t have two heads.)
I guess I have that joy in my belly now because I definitely have that smile.
The roads of the snowy mountains are rimmed in a long fall down to smooshiness. I don’t want to visit that place on account of my soft, fleshy cargo. (The humans in the back.)
My new friend has been very quiet, but as for the rest of them, it sounds like there is a whole circus back there.
I am a guy who has spent a lot of time alone, especially in my more recent years. Having all this crazy people noise is invasive.
My face is smiling, but that is not what I’m feeling. One wrong move, and we are over the cliff and falling to their deaths. I would be okay, but they would not. It is very hard to get flesh stains out of a black suit, and I don’t have a wardrobe like the Cowboy.
I wish I knew where we were going.
The darkness is only stripped away by the incredibly bright white lights of the racing buses. Once this was the vehicle of their slavery, and now their escape to some sort of freedom. I mean, they are free, but it is still the end of the world!