Elderly hit the big time.
Aiden found himself on the subway, dressed for work, briefcase in hand, cellphone in his back pocket, and no memory of getting himself there. He knew in his heart that he had been through the motions. Showered, had coffee, kissed his wife as if he meant it. He felt certain he had smiled at his children as they argued over cereal box puzzles, and even that he had rubbed the dog under his chin…but he did not remember it. All Aiden had thought about since the night before, was Lily Easton. The girl he loved from 9 nine years old. The email was from an old friend who had stayed in touch with her. She had died, the email said. Hanged herself in the woods behind her house. No one knew she was sad. Aiden loved her. He loved her laugh and the way she paused to think, and would look upwards, as if the answer was always above her. Aiden did not remember his morning today, but he clearly recalled the moment many years ago, when Lily removed her shirt after a rain storm. The side of her small breast made Aiden gasp. It stayed with him all these years. Such youth and newness, the smell of rain and no hint of the sorrow to come. #nightwalk
Lizzie sat outside the school and watched the sun burn out. She knew her mother would remember her soon enough: She would remember forgetting. At least once it got dark and there was no one in the house making dinner. Lizzie almost enjoyed being forgotten. School work was done in peace, and she was able to listen to the voices of other students and teachers as they left for home. She was able to picture the birds she heard singing. Her mind flipped pages in the book she had found at a garage sale. Identifying local wildlife…something something. She recalled the painted pictures and listened to the songs. Lizzie imagined the day she could stay in a place and sing, then fly off to a home that was hers alone. Her apartment would be a nice nest-like space. Filled with collected items and soft, quiet floors. Lizzie would stay to watch the sun set, but not because she had been forgotten. Lizzie would watch the colors above her turn to stars because it was a good thing to do. Someday she would stay places and go home, just because she wanted to. Waiting to be remembered would not be Lizzies ‘forever’. #nightwalk