It's actually very different than the last one I posted- condensed considerably. Anyway, I'm going to go through this story multiple times, so I figured I'd better get reacquainted with the first version. I'm pretty happy that I already have a story with circular time, so I can play with the concept of how this might play out differently and squish them into a novella in the end. Just in case you forgot, I will sue you if you try to steal it- I don't care if it isn't any good- even if it's crap it's MY crap- rawr! Seriously though, I'm in Seattle, and we've got a lot of lawyers what that'll help me out pro bono, 'cause they're just nice that way. And artsy. is that how you spell pro bono?.. it looks dirty :)
Our new home was extraordinarily bright, the light so intense that I had to shield my eyes and keep my gaze fixed on the ground. The dirt shimmered, as though someone had mixed glitter in with the soil. The wind picked up this shining dirt and carried it through the air in spirals, giving the world the illusion of being a dream.
Everything smelled old. I felt as if we were inside some ancient library or a forgotten pharaoh’s tomb, sealed off for hundreds of years and preserved perfectly before our arrival. But it was also a hot smell, the smell of a dangerously warm summer’s day that melts away skin and burns sight from the eyes. My companion handed me some tinted goggles, which I placed tightly over my eyes.
We said nothing for a long while, but continued standing surveying the landscape. There were only one or two trees in the distance of the enormous desert around us, and our whole world would have been of a single hue if the glittering sands didn’t continuously catch the sun in tiny prisms. The sun itself seemed dangerously close, as though it might crash into us at any second, but, really, it could only have been a little closer in proximity to us than the Earth to her sun.
“What do you think, Pete?” My companion asked. Her face was covered in the dust, making her shine like a goddess of this strange land.
I considered the question for a few moments. “It is iridescent.”
She laughed but ended up coughing as she inhaled the glimmering bits. I rushed to her aid but she shook me off with her hand, perhaps because we both knew that I could do nothing to help, and it would be dangerous to try. She removed her water bottle from her side to take a large gulp. As her coughing became less frequent, her smile returned.
“I didn’t mean for it to be funny,” I said.
“You never do,” She recapped her bottle, “that’s what makes it so funny.” She stretched her back and shoulders, producing various cracks and snaps, before allowing herself to fall into a cross-legged sit. “What should we do first?” She looked up at me with a hand shielding her eyes, the sun too intense, even with her goggles.
“We should assemble our new shelter.” I tried to mimic her way of sitting, but ended up falling to my knees. “It could get dark at any time.”
“It will never get dark, ever. That’s the point, isn’t it?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” I leaned back to rest in the sand. The sun began to burn my cheeks, and I felt the shining particles attach themselves to me. I wondered if I glittered like my companion, god-like, or if I more resembled someone buried in sand.
“It isn’t how I expected it would be,” she said to me, “ I thought it would be hotter.”
“But it is sweltering.”
“It could have been worse. It’s actually kind of pretty.”
“Yes, the iridescent sand is appealing provided it isn’t lodged in your throat.”
She began her laugh again, though I had, once more, had no intention of amusing her. I think there must have been some transformation in the manner of my speech. I used to make her laugh, before we came to the planet, but it was generally intended. Something had changed, and I wasn’t sure that the heat was wholly to blame.
She lay down too, and rolled over to be beside me. I stretched my hand to set it just beside hers, but did not touch her. I could never touch her again, I remembered, thought I could not recall why. There were many things I had forgotten, such as the reason for our relocation to this place, and many things that, even now, I continue to forget.
“We should assemble the tent.” I stood and the pretty dusts swept off of me and into the wind. I could feel the sands begin to stick to me as I sweat and knew that the two of us would soon become extremely uncomfortable.
“I don’t have the energy,” my companion whined, but she stood nonetheless.
We returned to the place we had come from, where the tent and a box of provisions lay, including matches and a few logs to start a fire. I thought that those might have been meant as some sort of a joke.
Taking up a few pieces of the tent, I glanced to my companion. “Do you know how to construct this?”
She rummaged through the box, trying to find the instructions. I was fairly certain that we had never had any, but it seemed a pity to eradicate her hopes so quickly. “I think we must’ve lost them,” she walked over to me. “I’m sure we can figure it out, though.”
It was a great disappointment when we entered the tent, after two exhausting hours constructing it, for it was small and of a dark hue, making it even hotter within than without. To cool ourselves, we removed our clothing and folded them into the box. Exhausted, we lay beside each other, not touching, for a long time. My companion would occasionally wet her fingers in her water bottle and fling the droplets at me, smiling sometimes, though I knew she was sad.
There was nothing to do. I went out to get the box and set it at the opening of our tent, so that we could reach it from inside.
“Is there anything interesting in there?” My companion glanced over my shoulder.
“Do you want to have a hand at carving one of the logs?”
“No. If we got splinters, there wouldn’t be any way to get them out.”
I nodded and returned to her side. As I began to set myself down, my companion called out abruptly for me to stop.
“Stand up,” she commanded, and I did. I stood before her and watched her look me over, every detail of my body. She had seen it many times before, so I wasn’t sure what she was playing at. Perhaps I was simply more interesting to look at than the mono-hued walls of the tent.
“Never mind,” she said, after a few minutes. “Just sit next to me.”
I set myself down beside her. “Do you want to try to sleep?”
“I don’t think I could.” She lay down anyway and closed her eyes. As she breathed, glitters wafted up from her lips. The dust settled on her quickly, enveloping her figure so that it looked as though she was wearing a very tight body suit.
I quietly emptied the box then refilled it, trying to trick myself into believing that I was organizing things. It certainly seemed as though we were already running low on supplies, but I supposed that must be impossible. We had only just arrived.
It occurred to be that I no longer knew my companion’s name. I was certain that I could never forget any detail about her, the only person I had and the only one that had ever mattered. Yet, I found myself in the awkward position of having lost her very name, somewhere along the way.
She stirred after a bit, and shook herself to remove some of the dust, though it clung to her as though it were permanently attached. She coughed a few times and sat up, smiling at me with dusty lips. “Did you get any sleep?”
“No. I organized the box.”
“There isn’t much in there… So, how long was I out for?”
I figured she was playing some sort of game. She had not slept and we both knew it. “Not long.”
“Do you want to go explor-”
“Yes.”
We left the tent wearing only our goggles. The sun seemed even closer, and the heat dried the sand onto us like concrete. We continued into the endless day until we were back at our tent. In order to get any sort of exercise, we circled our tiny planet a few more times.
My companion then took me back to the tent and sat again. She looked tired, breathing heavily. We had not walked far enough for her to be so exhausted, but the heat seemed to affect her more than it did me.
“Do you want something to drink?” I asked. “I can get your water bottle, if you want.”
“Just lay by me.”
I did as she asked, and my companion brought her fingers so that they were only a few millimeters from mine. I coughed to remind her that she could not touch me, and she pulled away, her eyes fixed on my face. “Why do you have to look so beautiful?”
“I look as I’ve always looked. Why would I appear any differently?”
“It’s just so hard, Peter.”
“I’m sorry,” I paused, and then, ashamed, admitted, “but I seem to have forgotten your name.”
I had expected her to be surprised or even angered by this news, but she just shook her head slowly. “Of course you have.”
“Why? I don’t remember anything.”
“You seem to remember some of it…”
“We can’t touch.”
“My name is Anne,” she traced the outline of my face with her finger, “but you’ll forget again. You always do. Sometimes hours can pass before it happens, sometimes only seconds, but you always forget.”
“How did we get here? I can’t recall. Why do you remember?”
“Because I killed you, Peter,” she exclaimed, and she threw up her hands in irritation, though I was unable to discern who the anger was directed at, “And I had to go where they send people who kill those they love.”
The sun dimmed to a dull grey as it raced to set beyond the horizon and rise again. It tore across the sky and pulled away all the blue, leaving streaks of black in its wake. The grains of sand could no longer act as prisms, and the wind shunned them for their lack of distinction, their perfect, boring white. Then, everything around us faded entirely, and I realized that it was my vision, not the world, which had changed. My eyes could see only the emptiness that had consumed every other part of me and erupted streaming from my eyes.
“Why- why did you kill me?”
“I don’t know, I just did!” She began pacing the tiny tent in small circles. “And you were there, after it all, waiting. You’d been waiting. They said you wanted to be with me, despite everything.”
“I don’t remember any of this.”
“They didn’t want you to remember. It was too awful and you didn’t do anything wrong and it’s more painful for me, having to keep telling you all this over and over! It was too wonderful for me to get to have you again.” She looked at me, and she might have had tears, through the glitters concealed everything. My own tears had dried up in the sand beneath my eyes.
“How long have we been here?” I asked, because I felt that we had only just arrived.
“Forever. I don’t know how long. Years. We keep putting up the tent and tearing it down, and food keeps reappearing. And our clothes. And you keep getting mesmerized by the shimmers and saying the exact same things. And I can’t even touch you, or they’ll take you away from me.”
“I wish I could touch you.”
“Me too.”
We considered each other for a long time in silence. The revelation had stolen our words.
“Peter…” My companion finally spoke in a whisper.
“I’m sorry,” I paused, ashamed, “But I seem to have forgotten your name.”
Our new home was extraordinarily bright, the light so intense that I had to shield my eyes and keep my gaze fixed on the ground. The dirt shimmered, as though someone had mixed glitter in with the soil. The wind picked up this shining dirt and carried it through the air in spirals, giving the world the illusion of being a dream.
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