‘Why won’t
they?’ I ask. ‘I know I don’t want to stay here forever.’
‘Then you are a brave one,’ he
replies. ‘Not all of us are so lucky. People fear the abyss. That place where
we’re no one and no one knows us. Not existing is the epitome of the unknown.
We all have that fear. I know you have it too.’
‘I do, but I also fear being
stuck, like this place. Why do I keep dying?’
‘Because you believe this place
can hurt you.’
I
consider the possibility. Is it plausible that I could stroll through this
desert as though I were a spirit? Despite how hungry I am, and the thirst, and
the burn of the sun on the back of my neck, could I really just walk on?
Impervious to everything that could harm me? The idea reminds me of Windermere,
and here ghosts who feel no pain. I swore not to be like them, to cling to the
ounce of life I’d been allowed to retain.
No comments:
Post a Comment