Just went downstairs and got the mail. The main entrance to our building is all glass walls and windows. On a good day you can see everything outside clearly and it's almost as if you're amongst it, even though you're not. Today's not a good day. I went downstairs, mask in hand - you can never be too careful - and the entire room glowed green. A dark, dirty sort of green, like really dark rain clouds. Eerie.
There was a man in the air lock. Just standing there. Looking at the sky. He was crying. I couldn't hear him, those rooms generally don't let much in or out and that includes sound. I tried to ignore him. I don't normally like to get involved in other peoples problems, expecially people I don't know. Which is a bit hypocritical considering anyone could read this and comment on my mountain of issues, but I never know what to say when people are upset. Most of the time all I can manage is to stand by quietly and give them a feeble pat on the back. I've never told someone I know how they feel because I don't. I only know how I feel, I'll only ever know how I feel, thought sometimes I wish I did know how other people felt. But I'm not like Berry. I don't get a feel for people when I've only just met them or if I pass them in the street. Maybe he is an empath. Maybe he just has good instincts.
I got the mail and was about to walk back upstairs, but something made me turn around. Orion loomed in the distance, a dark shadow amongst pea soup fog, and the guy was now staring straight at me. His eyes were wide like he'd had some sort of a fright and he beckoned for me to come closer. I just stared. He kept beckoning, getting more and more worked up and I guess, excited? I took a few steps forward and against my better judgement, continued taking steps forward until I was about a metre away from the glass. He stared at me for a moment longer. He was uncannily tall. It was almost scary. Tall and willowy, like a tree. He wore a suit about two sizes too small for him and a tattered bowler hat. It was all very comical. I think, maybe, thats why I went over to him. That and we were seperated by a large glass door with bolts that only a fool would try to compete with, though the thought didn't cross my mind at the time.
"Your not from around here, are you?" I don't know what made me say it. And looking back it was stupid, because the doors are so thick, as I mentioned, sound rarely gets in or out, unless there's a bomb going off outside or something.
He shook his head.
The thought that he SHOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HEAR ME, also, didn't cross my mind at the time. (funny how you miss these things).
He reached out one long limb and pressed his hand against the glass, taking a few steps closer as if preparing to share some sort of secret. Instead of speaking, however, he breathed on the glass. He started to write something with his finger and he had to keep breathing on the glass so there'd be enough room to write and so the message would stay there and his handwriting or finger writing I guess you'd call it was terrible but there was legible enough to make out:
"TRUST YOU."
I blinked. And I think I must have frowned or something because he laughed and smiled at me as if to say "you'll get it eventually.." And then:
(NOW: LET ME MAKE SOMETHING VERY, VERY CLEAR: I do not:- snort- inhale- inject- take- drink- insertOr anything else you can add to that list, ANY SORT OF drugs, alcohol or other nasty substances. So...I'm probably just going insane.)
His eyes sparkled, he winked and dissapeared. Just like that. Poof! Gone.
I think I need to lie down.
"unspeakable wrongness"
It's still raining. And I'm so BORED. So I'm afraid this'll probably just be a post full of me whinging. Blogs are back in now, so almost everyone has one to do precisely that. Whinge. I've never had a blog before. It's a bit exciting! Berry has one. Somewhere. He's never shown me, but every so often when I'm bored, I try to find it. It's almost impossible to get inside his head. I wish I could. I'd love to know what he's thinking. Especially when he looks at me. Don't get me wrong! I have no romantic illusions about Berry, I think he could be gay actually. Or just to caught up in fantasy to have time for a girlfriend. Or a lifemate. Though I expect he'll have one someday.
It's a law now. We all have to. Gay or straight. And everyone has to have a child. Whether it's their own or was made for them. Until we can make up numbers again. For every baby born, someone dies from gas inhalation. It's a kind of murder now. So, if you locked someone outside on purpose without a mask or anything, then you could get charged for it. Given the amount of security they have around now, it's impossible to get away with anything, though a few people have tried. I think it's stupid. Really stupid. I wouldn't do something unless I thought there was a pretty decent chance I could get away with it, but some people don't even care about that. Crimes of passion and that sort of thing...but it's harder to use that defence now than it was in the past. I read alot about the olden days. Back before my parents were born and when things seemed so much more complicated.
I've been in love with Berry since we were both 6 years old. I think he knows. I don't expect much of him, I don't think he'd understand how love and all that comes with it works, he analyses everything, but I love him all the same.
It's a law now. We all have to. Gay or straight. And everyone has to have a child. Whether it's their own or was made for them. Until we can make up numbers again. For every baby born, someone dies from gas inhalation. It's a kind of murder now. So, if you locked someone outside on purpose without a mask or anything, then you could get charged for it. Given the amount of security they have around now, it's impossible to get away with anything, though a few people have tried. I think it's stupid. Really stupid. I wouldn't do something unless I thought there was a pretty decent chance I could get away with it, but some people don't even care about that. Crimes of passion and that sort of thing...but it's harder to use that defence now than it was in the past. I read alot about the olden days. Back before my parents were born and when things seemed so much more complicated.
I've been in love with Berry since we were both 6 years old. I think he knows. I don't expect much of him, I don't think he'd understand how love and all that comes with it works, he analyses everything, but I love him all the same.
"The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,"
It's miserable outside today. The rain is mixing with the fog and the smog and it looks terrible. Kind of green in a toxic, 'breath this and you'll die' sort of way. Needless to say, I won't be heading outside. Mum wouldn't let me out anyway, not without a mask and I hate those things. They're uncomfortable and make everybody look the same. I hate that. You can never tell who you're talking to and weirdos on the street like to pretend they know you, just so they can steal your wallet while your're engrossed in conversation. It's not the same world as it used to be and people are dissapearing or dying or running away on a regular basis. Seeing someone you know on the street now is a luxury, rather than a regular occurance.
I can't remember not carrying the masks, though Mum and Dad have told me there was a time when we didn't have to. Better to carry them than not now though. You never know when you'll need them. One gust of wind is enough to make you choke. No-one knows where it's all coming from. One day the world was enjoying fresh, albeit slightly smokey and perhaps a little smoggy during peak hour, air and the next toxic fumes. Gases that no-one knew the name of and came from who knows where. It was mid-morning the first time, so most people were at school or in their offices or driving to work. Anyone who didn't manage to get inside fast enough died. Funny thing, people were dropping like flies, but animals seemed fine. Even those with a biological structure almost identical to ours seemed unfazed by the whole thing. It was if they were still breathing the cool, clean air that were were now being denied. And even now, after all these years or masks and death, there's still been no side effects on our furry friends. No-one knows why, but there's about a million people studying it. Some of them are convinced if we inject ourselves with the blood of animals then we'll be alright. Take on some of their antibodies and be free to walk around inhaling the crap that's infected our air. I think I'll pass. It hasn't been proven to work anyway. And even if it had....something about going around inhaling that stuff like it's normal, doesn't sit well with me. It doesn't seem right. Or safe. Behold my rampant paranoia!
My friend Berry is convinced he's psychic. Or an empath. Or something, I don't know. He 'communes' with the animals on a regular basis and is convinced they know something we don't. I don't think the animals know much of anything. And if they were able to think or communicate about anything other than food and crapping everywhere, then they'd probably just be wondering what all the fuss was about. I wouldn't be suprised if they thought us all morons. Not that I don't like animals. And not that I don't think they don't have brains and minds and what have you. I just don't feel the need to read into the animal 'psyche' as much as Berry does. Despite his name, he's not that sweet, Our Berry. His mother named him because she was craving berries all through her pregnancy. Blueberries, blackberries, rasberries. Berry has huge bowls of them on every brithday, as a treat. It's not as easy to get specialty fruits like that anymore. Aside from berries on Berry's birthday, I've only ever had apples and oranges. I've had candy that's meant to taste like other fruits, pineapple, watermelon etc, but I don't think that counts. Berry's family are pretty well off. The have a house with a backyard. It's all glassed in, like most of the parks and gardens in our neighbourhood. The grass is synthetic, but Berry's mother has some plants hanging around in pots and things. Most things don't grow too well without natural light, but they have water in abundance - Berry's mother grows alot of ferns. I like ferns, I have a tiny one in a little pot in my room. Berry gave it to me as a present. Dad has a cactus collection in our living room. Most afternoons he'll wander up to the top of our building and so they can take in the best of the afternoon sun. I can't imagine it's much fun, sitting on the roof with a mask on for hours, but he says he uses the time to catch up on work and reading and whatnot.
I don't see too much of my parents. Not together, anyway. Mum does the day shift, Dad does the night shift. They're scientists. So are Berry's parents and the parents of most of our friends. Our town is home to one of the largest scientific research centres and military bases in the world. Almost everyone who lives here is employed at the Orion facility. I don't know much about my parents work. Bits and pieces I've picked up on, mostly from the occassional glance at their notes or catching part of their rare conversations with work colleagues. Thats one thing about everybody here: The Orion looms over us, all the time, but no-one ever talks about it. Talking with my parents generally consists of what my plans are for the week and how my friends are doing, whats for dinner tomorrow night and have I cleaned my room? They don't even talk to eachother about their work. Classified is a word that's always on the edge of everyone's lips, but because of the silently accepted black out on all talk of Orion and it's 'projects', it's rarely said. Now, don't get me wrong - I don't think they're up to anything dodgy. It's not like that at all. I mean, the whole 'thou shalt not speak' thing is a little suspect, but I get a really strong vibe from that place, from the people who work there...that everything's going to be ok. I know that my parents and the people we know work really hard and value what they're doing. I couldn't, for a second, think that they'd do anything that would risk or endanger anyone. I guess I'm saying this because I've read enough sci-fi novels and watched enough TV to know that everyone has specific ideas about huge scientific miltiary bases. There's a stigma attached to them, I guess you could say. But no. I've always felt safe here. Gas or no. And having Orion looking over my shoulder has always been a great comfort to me.
I think about these things alot. I don't know if any of the others feel this way. If any of them did it'd have to be Berry. I don't know whether to tell him or not, which is strange, because I've always been able to tell him everything, without a doubt in my mind at all. Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I should start having secrets of my own or something. Everyone else seems to have them.
I can't remember not carrying the masks, though Mum and Dad have told me there was a time when we didn't have to. Better to carry them than not now though. You never know when you'll need them. One gust of wind is enough to make you choke. No-one knows where it's all coming from. One day the world was enjoying fresh, albeit slightly smokey and perhaps a little smoggy during peak hour, air and the next toxic fumes. Gases that no-one knew the name of and came from who knows where. It was mid-morning the first time, so most people were at school or in their offices or driving to work. Anyone who didn't manage to get inside fast enough died. Funny thing, people were dropping like flies, but animals seemed fine. Even those with a biological structure almost identical to ours seemed unfazed by the whole thing. It was if they were still breathing the cool, clean air that were were now being denied. And even now, after all these years or masks and death, there's still been no side effects on our furry friends. No-one knows why, but there's about a million people studying it. Some of them are convinced if we inject ourselves with the blood of animals then we'll be alright. Take on some of their antibodies and be free to walk around inhaling the crap that's infected our air. I think I'll pass. It hasn't been proven to work anyway. And even if it had....something about going around inhaling that stuff like it's normal, doesn't sit well with me. It doesn't seem right. Or safe. Behold my rampant paranoia!
My friend Berry is convinced he's psychic. Or an empath. Or something, I don't know. He 'communes' with the animals on a regular basis and is convinced they know something we don't. I don't think the animals know much of anything. And if they were able to think or communicate about anything other than food and crapping everywhere, then they'd probably just be wondering what all the fuss was about. I wouldn't be suprised if they thought us all morons. Not that I don't like animals. And not that I don't think they don't have brains and minds and what have you. I just don't feel the need to read into the animal 'psyche' as much as Berry does. Despite his name, he's not that sweet, Our Berry. His mother named him because she was craving berries all through her pregnancy. Blueberries, blackberries, rasberries. Berry has huge bowls of them on every brithday, as a treat. It's not as easy to get specialty fruits like that anymore. Aside from berries on Berry's birthday, I've only ever had apples and oranges. I've had candy that's meant to taste like other fruits, pineapple, watermelon etc, but I don't think that counts. Berry's family are pretty well off. The have a house with a backyard. It's all glassed in, like most of the parks and gardens in our neighbourhood. The grass is synthetic, but Berry's mother has some plants hanging around in pots and things. Most things don't grow too well without natural light, but they have water in abundance - Berry's mother grows alot of ferns. I like ferns, I have a tiny one in a little pot in my room. Berry gave it to me as a present. Dad has a cactus collection in our living room. Most afternoons he'll wander up to the top of our building and so they can take in the best of the afternoon sun. I can't imagine it's much fun, sitting on the roof with a mask on for hours, but he says he uses the time to catch up on work and reading and whatnot.
I don't see too much of my parents. Not together, anyway. Mum does the day shift, Dad does the night shift. They're scientists. So are Berry's parents and the parents of most of our friends. Our town is home to one of the largest scientific research centres and military bases in the world. Almost everyone who lives here is employed at the Orion facility. I don't know much about my parents work. Bits and pieces I've picked up on, mostly from the occassional glance at their notes or catching part of their rare conversations with work colleagues. Thats one thing about everybody here: The Orion looms over us, all the time, but no-one ever talks about it. Talking with my parents generally consists of what my plans are for the week and how my friends are doing, whats for dinner tomorrow night and have I cleaned my room? They don't even talk to eachother about their work. Classified is a word that's always on the edge of everyone's lips, but because of the silently accepted black out on all talk of Orion and it's 'projects', it's rarely said. Now, don't get me wrong - I don't think they're up to anything dodgy. It's not like that at all. I mean, the whole 'thou shalt not speak' thing is a little suspect, but I get a really strong vibe from that place, from the people who work there...that everything's going to be ok. I know that my parents and the people we know work really hard and value what they're doing. I couldn't, for a second, think that they'd do anything that would risk or endanger anyone. I guess I'm saying this because I've read enough sci-fi novels and watched enough TV to know that everyone has specific ideas about huge scientific miltiary bases. There's a stigma attached to them, I guess you could say. But no. I've always felt safe here. Gas or no. And having Orion looking over my shoulder has always been a great comfort to me.
I think about these things alot. I don't know if any of the others feel this way. If any of them did it'd have to be Berry. I don't know whether to tell him or not, which is strange, because I've always been able to tell him everything, without a doubt in my mind at all. Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I should start having secrets of my own or something. Everyone else seems to have them.
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