Light footsteps splash into a shallow puddle, remnants of an earlier rainfall. Light reflects and travels across the rough, uneven pavement within each droplet. Orange, from the streetlights above, placed against a dark night backdrop, a surreal type of dark blue which looks just a bit too perfect - your favourite shade, but at a time of night it shouldn't be able to appear. Everything looks a little hazy here. The edges of your peripheral vision are blurred, or darkened, covered with a thin foil to stop you from seeing the full image.
That's how it always has been in this city. Since you arrived, yes, but even before that. You saw it, in the memories of someone, from sometime. Leftover memories, clinging to what you can only assume are places, maybe items (you haven't quite deduced the details yet) which must have meant something to the previous owners.
Yet all memories you've found (been thrown into? ... stole?) before were different. Always sharp, precise, sharpened to the point of driving you to madness over the details when you first started seeing them. You had never before noticed an individual eyelash of anyone, or heard so clearly blades of grass run across each other, scratching right beside your ear. It took you a few years to be able to, well, zoom out.
But not here - here they're just like your vision now. With corners darkened, sometimes the dim seeping onto the rest of the image. They feel lethargic. When you try to move within them, occasionally the image spins, drunk, and leaves you dizzy. Though once you had to pull yourself away, now you fight to focus.
Nowhere else, only here.
You shake your head to clear your thoughts. That's a mystery for another day.
[[Continue walking->Page Two - Why walk?]]Yes, you have a reason for this nighttime walk: your own mystery, one you've been actively trying to solve for two years now.
It's hard, when you don't have a way forward. When you feel like you're stumbling around, hoping you'll accidentally find any kind of information that could tell you what's going on, make you understand, or at least point you in the right direction of an answer.
But when what you don't understand is //you// - why you are the way you are, why as soon as you were old enough to understand what a memory is, you begun experiencing others...
Difficulty is joined by fear. Especially when you seem to be the only one.
Luckily, after two frustrating, frustrating years of stumbling, you might have finally found something. A whispered conversation in - a bit surprisingly - reality made you suspicious. Though the whisperers were sharing in their view nothing more than gossip, scathing and amused-sounding gossip, to you it was a hint, a suggestion of a place to go, where someone might have at sometime known something. And that's more than you've had since the last clue led you to the city, so you go.
Usually, your best friend accompanies you. Always, really, being as curious as you, and as wary to walk around the city in the dark alone.
But, for the first time since you first met, on that eventful first week of your arrival, he's silent. Completely. No answers to your calls and no visits over the past day, which only adds to your frustration and fear and now //worry//, putting you on edge, forcing you to grip onto each strikingly cold concrete wall of each building at every street corner. Try to steady yourself as you peer around, check for anyone around.
It's only been one day, right? Even if the hours are nearing closer to 48 than 24 now, still, just gone for one full day.
[[You're very distracted today->Page Three- Think!]]And you need to go.
*****
That's it!! I wish I could tell you where you need to go, I'd love to know that myself, if the plot could come to me.
Hope you all enjoyed reading!!
↶↷Light footsteps splash into a shallow puddle, remnants of an earlier rainfall. Light reflects and travels across the rough, uneven pavement within each droplet. Orange, from the streetlights above, placed against a dark night backdrop, a surreal type of dark blue which looks just a bit too perfect - your favourite shade, but at a time of night it shouldn't be able to appear. Everything looks a little hazy here. The edges of your peripheral vision are blurred, or darkened, covered with a thin foil to stop you from seeing the full image.
That's how it always has been in this city. Since you arrived, yes, but even before that. You saw it, in the memories of someone, from sometime. Leftover memories, clinging to what you can only assume are places, maybe items (you haven't quite deduced the details yet) which must have meant something to the previous owners.
Yet all memories you've found (been thrown into? ... stole?) before were different. Always sharp, precise, sharpened to the point of driving you to madness over the details when you first started seeing them. You had never before noticed an individual eyelash of anyone, or heard so clearly blades of grass run across each other, scratching right beside your ear. It took you a few years to be able to, well, zoom out.
But not here - here they're just like your vision now. With corners darkened, sometimes the dim seeping onto the rest of the image. They feel lethargic. When you try to move within them, occasionally the image spins, drunk, and leaves you dizzy. Though once you had to pull yourself away, now you fight to focus.
Nowhere else, only here.
You shake your head to clear your thoughts. That's a mystery for another day.
Continue walking