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Tuesday, December 13, 2022

"Meeting the End" by Trinity H


“Do you know where you are?”

Now that I’ve been asked, I realize that I don’t know where I am. There’s a long road, leading to an ever growing distance on both sides. I look up, and it’s blue but the sky isn’t really there. I wiggle my fingers and look at my hands. I’m moving them but I can’t really feel it.

“Hello? Do you know where you are?”

The man across the road asking me this slowly comes into my vision. He’s so far away but I can still hear him even with the low level he’s speaking at. Suddenly, I realize just how quiet it is. There must not be any cars for miles. Or any people. I start to wonder if there is anything at all.

“I don’t know where I am.” I answer to the man with the volume he used.

“Do you want to know?”

As the man says this he walks toward me. Logic is telling me to run or to tell him to stay where he is. But my gut is alerting me. I need this man. So I respond.

“Yes, please.”

He’s face to face with me now, and he's grinning. I try to define him. Try to see if maybe I know him. But nothing except nothing comes to mind. This whole place feels a lot like nothing.

“Well, I guess I could tell you, but it might be a bit of a shock.”

I nod silently, he seems to take this as a queue.

“You’ve been lost by life and found by death. So I guess you could say you’re somewhere in between.”

I’m not sure what comes over me but I laugh. Not the giggling type of laugh but the bellowing type of laugh. He doesn’t join, however, he keeps along with his upturned lips.

“I don’t think you understand, sir. I’m not lost.” I grow impatient.

“Well you just told me you were.” he says patiently.

“No, I told you I don’t know where I am.”

“Is that not the same thing? Well I guess you could consider perspective-”

I interrupt him.

“No. I’m not lost, I just don’t know where I am. If you would just tell me where I am, I’ll know and then I can find my way home.”

He looks disappointed and says,

“You can’t have a home. At least not here, it’s not really possible.”

I’m confused, and this confusion is beginning to frustrate me.

“Well obviously I can’t have a home here, how can anyone have a home in a place they don’t know?”

“Okay, well where is your home then?” he challenges.

“It’s… it’s um. I… I don’t know.”

He nods and reaches out his hand. I hesitantly take it.

Something comes over me, I don’t know what. But now I miss it. I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss the sun. I miss the moon and stars. I miss music. I miss water. I miss warmth. I miss dreaming. I miss being a child. I miss being a teenager. I miss really specific things like the day in the mountains when I saw snow for the first time. I start to think about opening one present on Christmas Eve. The excitement that came with that, I miss it. I miss late night drives with someone I know but can’t quite place. Those were my favorite nights. I miss hugs. I miss someone’s smile. I miss love. I miss it so much that I start to miss less and soon enough I can’t remember what I was even missing. I want to cry but I find myself not able to shed a tear. In fact, if I’m correct, I’m smiling. He takes my chin in his hand and lifts it, as I’m gazing into his soulful eyes they start to tell me something. They tell me that maybe he misses it too.

“Where am I?” I beg to know.

“I’ll tell you where you are. You’re right where you need to be.”

And I believe him.

“I have to go. But I’ll miss you. Take care.”

Before I can say anything he turns around and starts walking down the road. I’m missing something again but it isn’t what he showed me.

“Wait, sir!”

“Yes?”

I search for my words and ask,

“Who are you?”

He considers this question carefully and opens his mouth,

“End.”

 

 

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