Oblivion (Part One: The Distant Messenger)

This strange haze of memories

That slowly fade into dust

Makes my heart pound serene

And my soul rest in a calm and quiet peace.

I lay my head on a pillow of soft white feathers

And a bed of crimson petals

To dream of angels

Soothing my pain away.

Their wings embrace me

And make me feel comfortable

Protected and heartfelt

Like a lover in the  lover’s arms.

***

- Why do you still cry over this? It happened such a long time ago. It belongs to the past.

- I think I’ve never really overcome it…

- You must. This is not good for you.

That young man, whose eyes never seem to follow his smile, smirked sadly. Why would he keep his grief for so long? That made no much sense anymore.

***

The two friends sat in the rocking chairs, on the balcony, watching the sun slowly sliding down in the horizon. Each head was so busy with their own thoughts that the interruption felt like an interference to that quiet peace, that was being violated by what was nothing more than an extension of the thoughts and that expressed the concrete weight of the words.

- I once had a brother.

- Well, you have me now. I’m almost a brother for you, anyway. Some friends are closer than brothers, did you know that?

- Never thought about that, really.

- People say friends are brothers we choose to relate with.

- Where do you get these things from?

- Well, I read a lot.

The young men wearing glasses tried to smile, but it did not work. His friend was concerned about his sanity. He seemed to be absent-minded very often lately. They have avoided talking about the past for a long time. But the ghosts do not simply vanish in the memory. They can hide away for a while, but they do not die. It seemed it was one of those occasions when they were coming back from the darkness where they were buried to expose themselves to the light, for some inexplicable reason.

- Don’t you think about what happened? Don’t you miss them, sometimes?

- Them?

- Your family…

- I do.

- I’m glad you do. I do too and lately very often.

- Why?

- I miss them so much.

- You know that past is buried, literally.

- Maybe not…

The young man looked at his friend’s face. His eyes were sadly lost in the distance. Grieve and pain were still so alive in those sad eyes, they seem to materialize in front of them.

- We’ve got to move on, like we always did.

- Yeah. Right. You talk as if that was so easy to do. I wish we could travel in time and change what happened. Then things could be so much different now.

- But we can’t.

- Are you really sure?

He smiled. It seemed some insane idea had come to his mind.

- What are you thinking about?

- I had an idea. There is someone we’ve got to see on the weekend, when nobody will raise any suspicion, if we leave our quarters.

- Oh. No!

***

- That is not possible! If it was I would have come back there.

- There? There is no there anymore! It was blown off and completely destroyed.

- Some time earlier, before the destruction… maybe.

- That world is not there anymore…

- You would not understand. I don’t know if I do either, if I think too much about it.

- There must be a way. It’s very important to me… to us…

- You do not seem to get it. I can’t help you. I’m just a clone, not a scientist. I’m the creation, not the creator.

***

- There must be a way.

- Stop being silly. You know there is no way... at least for now… in this era.

- I won’t give up.

- You should. You sound like a stubborn madman already…

***

- ‘Oumuamua’?

- Yes. It means the "first distant messenger".

- I can imagine the confusion that it is causing to the scientists, who are trying to explain that strange kind of… apparition, to say the least.

- Yes. The theories are so vain and empty still. They are so lost.

- I have one theory and I think that could be the key to what we are looking for.

- Oh. Stop that! I’ve never heard such nonsense.

- I am sure our friend will agree with me. We’ve got to visit him one more time…

- Oh, sweet Lord! Here we go again!

***