(Direct continuation to Soulmates in Hiding) ———

“I know your secret.”

Bell’s heart drops.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” she tries to cover herself. She doesn’t have to hear herself to know that it’s not convincing.

“When I revealed I don’t have a soulmate, you looked like a deer in headlights. If you didn’t have one, you would’ve looked relieved to know you aren’t the only soulmate-less person. Instead you looked terrified. Then at lunch just now, it snowed. And you looked equally scared. And we all know you love snow.” Wow. She was entirely right. When it’s laid out like that, it’s obvious.

Bell is shocked by her. She never heard Amelie say so much at one time. From every accurate piece of evidence, she begins to rethink Amelie not having mind powers.

“I don’t have to have mind powers to figure that out. I’m just really observant,” Amelie clarifies. Bell must have said that last part out loud.

“You’re right.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Amelie has her arms crossed, frowning like Bell isn’t getting whatever she is trying to say.

“Umm….so what is your goal with this? With confronting me? Are you blackmailing me?” Bell asks.

Her eyes widen and immediately responds, “No! I’m not trying to blackmail you!”

“Then what is this?” Bell gestures vaguely between them.

“I guess, I just feel like it’s unfair. You paraded around here without a soulmate and you were fine with it, and of course the universe decides you get to have one.” Amelie isn’t a mean person, Bell knows this. She knows all too well about the struggles of being without a soulmate, so she feels for her. She really does.

“You’re upset. Because of Cross?”

“Yes. No matter if you and Cross are soulmates, you would have gotten together anyway,” Amelie declares in a tone that sounds like she is very sure of what she said. No room for debate.

And to be fair, she’s probably right. Bell can’t help but think that they would’ve found a way to each other without being soulmates. They kinda did since they never knew they were up until the kiss.

“Are you jealous of me?” It was a foreign word for her. No one envied her. She was the girl without powers or soulmate.

A huff escapes Amelie’s mouth, “I don’t like the way you put it, but jealous of the fact that you have a soulmate, not necessarily just you.”

“But almost everyone has a soulmate. That means you envy a lot of people.”

A deadly glare is shot her way from her green eyes. “Way to rub it in my face.”

Bell waves her hands to show she meant no harm. “Sorry. I meant that it just seems like a lonely life. Being envious all the time of everyone.” It sounds really sad.

Even when she didn’t know about Cross being her soulmate, she wouldn’t say she was upset about not having a soulmate, but maybe that was because she hrew up with Cross. She can’t imagine the life Amelie has lived.

“Weren’t you?” Her voice is softer, vulnerability seeping into her tone.

“I think I was jealous but for a different reason. Like you said, I always had Cross, so not in the way you are. More in terms of like not being normal. Everyone had powers and soulmates to talk about. I just felt left out. Weird,” she confesses. It was something she never has voiced to anyone before, even Cross.

“I get that.” She hangs her head, her chesnut hair shielding her face, but Bell doesn’t need to see her to know what she’s feeling.

Now she understand why they’ve always had a strange friendship. Because they just got each other.

A knock surprises both of them, Bell jumping from the noise.

“Bell? You’ve been in the bathroom a long time. We just want to make sure you’re ok,” Lou’s concern is audible even through the thick wooden door.

“I’m fine!” Bell answers. Both her and Amelie look at each other in panic, not knowing how to deal with this situation.

“I hope she doesn’t think we believe that,” Roman says.

“We’re coming in!” Jeremiah warns right as the door opens.

“Oh hi Amelie,” Lou greets, clearly surprised from her wide eyes, eyebrows almost reaching her hairline.

“So what’s going on? Did Amelie lure you here?” Roman asks, not having a care in the world that she was in the room too.

Amelie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I somehow created a scenario where she would go to the bathroom first, then follow her, and acost her.”

Bell could see the tension between the two and she knew she had to defuse it before it got out of hair. Neither of them would get into a physical fight, but they wouldn’t hesitate and verbally assault one another.

“Guys, it’s ok. She didn’t lure me here. We just talked,” Bell insists, hoping that they drop it.

“What do you have in common?” Lou inquires, eying both of them as if trying to physically see what they would say to each other.

She realizes she can’t tell them about Amelie not having a soulmate since they think Amelie has telepathic powers and Bell doesn’t have one.

Risking a glance at her, she sees the desperation in her stare. Even if her friends know about Cross, she can’t tell them. It isn’t her secret to tell.

“We were partners in English. We found out that we share similar views,” she says instead.

Both Lou and Roman appear to be mulling over her answer. Bell and Amelie hold their breaths as they await a response.

“So should we go back to lunch? I’m totally not just saying that because I’m still hungry,” Jeremiah jokes, also trying to ease the tension. Thank heavens for him.

The other two nod in agreeance.

Bell sighs in relief. Now just one more thing left to do.

She turns to Amelie and says, “Amelie, do you want to eat with us?”

——— (Since I forgot to ask about appearances, I’m taking some creative liberties, but Skye, if you had a certain appearance in mind for Amelie, I’ll adapt to that!)

(Continuation of A Soulmate World) ———

Bell is on edge.

She’s never had to keep this big of a secret before, especially from her best friends.

“Everything ok, Bell?” Lou asks, concern directed at her instead of the squirrel that found its way onto their outdoor lunch table. Her, Roman, and Jeremiah are all gazing at her. “Yeah,” she says, but must not convince her friends because they all kept staring. “Just worried for Cross.”

At least that part is true. She doesn’t have to lie about that. Cross hasn’t updated her on his control with his powers. She really hopes he’s ok.

Roman touches her arm and she feels her worry and her tenseness bleed from her.

“You don’t have to do that,” she says. Bell really doesn’t like when he does that. It feels like he thinks his health is dispensible.

“I don’t mind taking some of it.” He offers a small smile.

“Is there any other reason you’re extra concerned about him?” Lou probes, a teasing glint in her eyes. “Maybe the reason you were blushing earlier.”

Against her will, she feels herself grow warm again. If only she had a better poker face.

“It’s ok, Jelly Belly. You don’t have to,” Jeremiah reaches across the table and bumps his arms with hers. She smiles, never more grateful for him.

“Yes she does! Jere, we’ve all been waiting for them to get together for…forever!” Roman declares, exasperated.

Lou pouts next to him as they both look at her expectedly.

“Ok, I was going to wait for him to be here, but we might have kissed yesterday,” she admits. It felt good to reveal something, especially since she did want to tell them that part.

All three of the squeal. Like ear splitting squeals.

Roman has a look of realization before bringing his hand to his face. “Shit, I owe Marta like thirty bucks.”

“You bet on us?” Bell asks, though not upset. She knows that many people thought she and Cross would make a good couple. With both of them not having soulmates and all. Well not knowing they had one.

“They were confident, so we put some money on the line,” Roman clarifies as he drags his hand down his face in exaggeration.

“I want you to know I had nothing to do with that,” Jeremiah says, trying to cover himself. “You knew?” Bell questions, pointing out his admittance of knowing.

“Of course he did, I told him. I can’t not tell my soulmate that I was going to win fifty dollars,” Roman mutters.

Lou raises her eyebrows in question. “I thought you just said thirty?”

“Well I bet fifty on longer, and Marta bet thirty for sooner. I was confident that they wouldn’t have the balls to confess to each other until like senior year.”

Bell laughs at this. Some might find it abrasive, but she sees what he means. It really did take them forever.

“Can we keep it on the low? Just for now. Cross and I don’t want much attention.”

“Of course, Bell. You have ours and Mr. Squirl’s silence,” Lou vows as she pets the squirrel’s head. The squirrel squeaks some and she leans her head closer to listen.

“Well he said he has to tell his sister the gossip, but she won’t tell a soul,” she amends.

“Don’t tell Marta, so then I don’t have to give them the thirty dollars,” Roman jokes.

“They’ll probably find out when Cross comes back, you’ll be out of your money soon.”

Watching her friends, Bell is hit with a sudden gratefulness for them. When they do feel like they can tell people, they will be the first to know about their powers.

She checks her phone to see a text from Cross.

“I think I’ve got a little control, enough to come back tomorrow. How’s it going there, my ❄️”

An unconscious smile spread on her lips.

“Huh, I didn’t think it called for snow,” Jeremiah comments, shielding his potted plant that he brought with him everywhere. His emotional support plant as he calls it.

Bell’s head cranes up so quickly she could have gotten whiplash. No, no, no. Just thinking about Cross made it snow.

She made it snow.

Ok, it’s fine. As long as it stays a flurry, she should be fine.

Breathe. Calming thoughts.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” she gets up and retreats before any of them have time to respond.

All she can hope is that the snow doesn’t follow her.

Once she gets inside and to the bathroom, she grips the sink, the cold porcelain is a welcome for her sweaty palms. She lifts her head and stares at her reflection.

She looks tired, but at least it isn’t snowing in the room. How did everyone do this on a daily basis? Keep their powers in check?

When the door creaks open, she turns on the faucet and pretends to wash her hands. Being caught having a mental breakdown in the bathroom is not high on her list of things happening today.

“Don’t worry, it’s just me.” Bell lets out a sigh of relief. It’s Amelie.

“I was just leaving,” she assures her as she gets dries her hand with a paper towel.

Amelie scans the stalls, seeing all of the doors are open, unoccupied.

“I know your secret.”

Bell’s heart drops.

—— (There will be more of Amelie next time! I love writing the chracters that some of you created!!

When did the word limit change to 2,000???!!!)

visiting great grandma’s house mail shoved in the china cabinet drawer spiraled phone extension cord slender staircase partial rug on wooden floorboard clawfoot tub peeling back decades of usage suddenly modernized kumquat orange painted frontdoor fannie’s thorn bushes are missing covered by mats of grass tended to weekly cluttered kitchen remodeled into opaque backsplashes of endearing brightness yet it lost it’s old self all it took was signing off the lined in silver contract and months of moving out accumulated values although the structure holds the memories we couldn’t take the house but we took the stained glass window centered with a hybrid tea rose her favorite

After the life changing day Bell had yesterday, she couldn’t wait for school the next day. It is so much easier to pretend everything is normal at school where everyone still thinks her and Cross don’t have powers or soulmates.

“Bell!” Lou calls out from the parking lot.

She has to laugh as there is three stray cats sitting at Lou’s feet.

“It’s ok. Bell likes cats,” she coos to the animals, scratching a golden one behind the ears. The kitties appear to nod like they understood her which they did. That was Lou’s gift.

“Hey Lou,” Bell greets. Lou looks around curiously. “Where’s Cross?” A teasing lilt to her voice.

Bell couldn’t help but blush, thinking back to their first kiss.

“Oh my god, somethimg happened between them,” Roman exclaims, jumping up behind them. “Ow!” He winces when Jeremiah elbows him.

“Maybe she wants to keep whatever private,” Jeremiah says. She shoots him a grateful smile. He grins back and she swears that his power should have been light based instead of his nature powers. He and Roman are two people who have already found their soulmates, each other.

“I am only stating the obvious. She is blushing!” Roman points right at her cheeks. Swatting his hand away, she walks towards the school in an attempt to hide her deepening blush.

In her haste, her foot catches on one of the steps and she trips, knocking into someone.

“I am so sorry!” She glances up and it’s Amelie Holtz.

“It’s fine,” Amelie replies and hugs her bag closer to herself and hurries through the door.

“That girl is such a mystery,” Lou comments, helping Bell back up. Bell doesn’t respond. She and Amelie usually got along when they were around each other. Both of them tended to be left out when people talked about their powers. Bell because everyone thought she didn’t have any and Amelie because her powers are telepathic. She never discloses what others are thinking, but people avoid her because they are worried she’ll reveal all their secrets. This created a strange friendship.

“She’s acting weird,” Roman corrects with a roll of his eyes.

“She isn’t weird, just shy,” Bell defends, feeling a sense of loyalty to her. Amelie never teased or even spoke about Bell not having powers or a soulmate. One of the only people who seemed to not care about her not having one.

“I didn’t say she’s weird. I said she acts weird. There’s a difference.”

They all stop at Lou’s locker so she can grab her books. She has so many animals (mostly cats) at home that she worries that they’ll steal her stuff, so she doesn’t go to school.

“Isn’t Cross coming to school?” Jeremiah asks, changing the subject.

She feels herself panic but then a gentle hand rests on her arm, and she feels it ebb away. Roman isn’t acknowledging what he is doing, but she’s grateful nonetheless. Who knows if she would make it rain or something terrible if she worried too much.

“He’s at home sick. Texted me this morning he won’t be here today,” she answers, more calm now.

With the big revelations from yesterday, he had issues with his telekinetic powers. While he always was the calm one between the two, she appeared to have more contol over her abilities.

They agreed not to tell anyone yet.

“I’ll text him to tell him we all hope he gets better! Unless you think he’s sleeping. I don’t want to wake him up,” Jeremiah speaks in such a rush that he corrected himself halfway through. It makes Bell smile. He reminds her of an eager puppy.

“You’re good. I don’t think he’s sleeping.”

He is already typing, and she can see the many hearts and smiley faces over his shoulder.

The shrill of the warning bell makes them all groan. With a wave, they all part since none of them have first period together.

Bell takes her seat just as the final bell sounds off.

“Ok class, partner up and work on the proofread each other’s essays,” Mrs. Britol orders. When no one pays her any mind, she opens her mouth and a piercing whistle hurts all of their ears. Mrs. Britol’s power was mimicing any sound that she’s heard before.

Everyone turns to their friends and begin talking about non-essay topics.

“Hey Amelie, want to work together?” Bell asks, turning to her right. Amelie’s head whips to her like she wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to her. Maybe she wasn’t.

“Sure.”

They exchange papers. The prompt was an opinion that they have that isn’t shared by many.

Bell wrote about not needing a soulmate, which she had done before she knew she had one, not that this changes her views on it.

Her eyes gaze at the title of Amelie’s essay. “Soulmates Shouldn’t Exist.”

When she reads it, she finds herself entranced with Amelie’s writing. Her perspective is refreshing. Everyone is obsessed about who their soulmate is, when they’ll meet, and when they can get their powers back. Amelie discusses how damaging that can be for people who don’t have any. The isolation, the sadness, and the bitterness expressed in her paper are all things Bell felt at one point or another. Yet it was in Amelie’s words.

“Amelie?” She whispers. She scans the room, no one with superhearing is in this room. Good.

“No. I am not talking about this,” Amelie shut down immediately.

“You don’t have to. I just wanted to let you know that I’m always here if you want to talk.”

“Why? Because you understand me? You don’t.” Bell raises her eyebrows in surprise. No one knows that she does have one.

Her phone buzzes with a text from Cross. Amelie gestures to it, “That’s what I mean. I can’t actually read minds, but I can tell you’ll always have Cross. I don’t have anyone.”

Bell is left speechless with the confirmation.

Amelie doesn’t have a soulmate, and now Bell does.

Still

I feel…….lost I guess lost?

I’m not moving Not forward Not backward And that’s worse Not moving at all

It’s been two years And I’m still in the same place Seeing you in the chair that you used to sit

I see you in the negative space In the shadows during the day In the bright stars at night

I see your absence in people In the tears that I cry In the empty work bench In the toolkit you gave me

Everyone appears to be moving Their lives as normal

But how?

I’m in the same place Yet it looks entirely different Without you

My mind is reeling from the smell of burned meat. It’s been too long since we’ve been able to eat anything besides the vegetables, so my hopes are high. I sigh at the possibility of substantial food. Since the Doom I have learned to take everything with a grain of salt, because in every positive thing, there’s always something negative. “You seem more gloomy than usual,” Maturana eyes me with a hint of worry. Normally his eyes are devoid of any emotions. Even through the tough-guy exterior I can see his crumbling core. The Doom has taken its toll on even the sturdiest man. “Have you watered the plants?” I ask, completely ignoring his remark. “Momma left me in charge, and you know that she will blame me if something goes awry,” Maturana shrugs, as if he doesn’t care at all. “I’m just worried about you, man. The plants have been watered,” He adds with a slight annoyance in his voice before he turns his head towards the stove. Once again, I sigh. The window next to my kin-brother reveals the twisted landscape illuminated by The Yellow Sun. The Herald of The Doom, and reason for the state we’re in. It started 15 years ago. From one day to the next. The worst wasn’t the Yellow Sun. No, far from. The worst was The Time-Eaters. I hear the scratching sound before Maturana realizes what’s going on. Lulled into a false sense of security has left us vulnerable to outside noises. Before any of us has time to react, the door blows off the hinges with a loud “thud”. Maturanas’ eyes flickers from side to side at the prospect of dying, but even at this, he picks up the pistol hanging at his waist. But he is too late. I feel the ripple in time as sudden as a chill in the air. Out of the blue, the space between Maturana and I crackle with electricity before it appears. I have no time to react. It is to fast, and the effect the monster has on the concept of time, is fucking with my mind. A sound of teeth tearing through flesh, reaches my ear. Screaming with pain Maturana falls to the floor. A pool of crimson red forms around his mauled body. “Damn! Fucking bastard!” I know it doesn’t help screaming profanities at the creature, but my mind’s crumbling under the Time-ripple it created when it arrived. The Time-Eater turns around. Removes its focus from Maturana. I once again get the chills. The oblong face, covered with oozing blisters and an enormous mouth with razor-sharp teeth eyes me with hunger. But its not the teeth I’m scared of. At the top of its revolting head, I see them. The antennalike features that’s pointing upwards. Those are the things I’m frightened of. “I kill you, even if it’s the last thing I’ll do…” I take a deep breath before I tighten my grip on the pistol at my belt. But even in my current state of revenge, I know that I’ve messed up. Messed up pretty bad... The antennas beginning to vibrate, and the piercing scream that is starting to slowly emerge from the creature rips the air in two. I try to open my mouth, but before I can react my vision goes black… … … My mind is reeling from the smell of burned meat. It’s been too long since we’ve been able to eat anything besides the vegetables, so my hopes are high…

Whoosh!

Marta speeds through the halls, gum wrappers and forgotten homework flutters in the air in the wake of their run. Their coppery hair whipping around them, getting in their face.

How are they always late to math? Even with super speed, somehow they can’t get to that class on time.

It isn’t even like they hate the equations and numbers. They actually like it. Having an equation balance out, it just makes sense. You can check it and there is usually an absolute answer.

But before their class, they get distracted and then has to use their speed to get there right as the bell rings.

As they near the doorway, they crash into someone.

For Marta, they can see everything that happens.

The shocked look on the girl’s face as her head begins to tilt down.

A folder that the girl was holding behind to fall, papers spewing out of it, heading towards the floor at a feather’s pace.

Her pencil case hovers in the air, pencils bursting out.

It’s all in slow motion for Marta.

They walk around the girl, studying her. Her eyes are brown. That’s the first thing Marta notices. Dark brown like chocolate.

Beautiful. Breathtaking. Ethereal.

Even with her dark in hanging in the air from their run in, it’s like a halo.

She must be new since they don’t remember seeing her. And they would recall those eyes for sure.

In one second to the normal person’s eye, Marta manages to catch all the falling items.

“Sorry for bumping into you. I always find myself late,” Marta says, blushing a bit, holding out the objects for her.

“It’s no problema. Thanks for the quick catch,” the girl replies, a slight accent catching them off guard. She takes her stuff from Marta, smiling warmly.

Add smile to the list of beautiful attributes of this stranger.

They hold out their hand to her. “Marta. But most people call me Mart.”

The girl shifts her items to one hand and fits her hand into their grasp. “Edna, but dont call me that. It’s way to old fashioned for me. I don’t know what mi mama was thinking. Call me Eddie.”

Marta laughs. “My mom wanted to call me Martha but my dad managed to get her to compromise with Marta.”

This makes Eddie’s grin widen.

Talking with Eddie is better than running. That makes their heart race. Eddie makes it soar.

“I better get going, but hopefully I’ll see you later? I am new afterall. I might need a tour.”

“Oh. Yeah. Yes. Of course!” They stutter in their attempt to answer fast.

“If you want, I can show you where the cafeteria is and then we can sit together.”

“Bueno. See you then,” she salutes with two fingers and then disappears.

Like literally disappears. It short circuits Marta’s brain for a moment. “Oh she’s a teleporter,” they announce to no one in particular.

“Marta, would you like to join your class or are you going to stand out here all day?”

Their teacher that absolutely wishes they could staple their hands to the desk pokes her head out the classroom door, shooting daggers with her eyes.

Oh yeah, class…..they forgot.

My family crowds around my head, my youngest clasping my hand, my husband stroking my hair. I stare up at them from the hospital bed that's been my unwilling home these last few months, trying to soak in every detail of their faces, every mole, every freckle, every crooked mouth.

Not long now, I think. I can feel death creeping towards me, ever nearer. How odd to finally be at the end of my life; to know that I've done all I'll ever do. Death is something I haven't thought of frequently in my 57 years, or at least, not my own death. I'd hoped of course it wouldn't be drawn out, or painful; hoped like everyone does that I'd go peacefully in my sleep of old age. The cancer that ravaged my body so quickly had other plans.

I watch my youngest girl's silent tears stream down her face. Of all my children, she'll have the hardest time with my passing, I'm sure of it. She understood me, and I her, better than anyone.

"Don't cry," I whisper, knowing it's what I'm supposed to say, knowing it won't do anything to stop her tears. "I'm about to go on such an adventure."

She returns my watery smile and nods shakily. "Of course you are. Just imagine what's waiting for you - Granny, and Pepper, and Auntie Lynn and-." She breaks off, turning her head towards her husband's chest besides her.

What's waiting for me. I ponder this. I've never been religious; I'm not entirely sure I believe in an after life, with all my loved ones standing around waiting for me like the guest of honor at a surprise party. But it also seems so unlikely that it will just - end.

Between one blink and the next, the scene shifts before me like an old film reel. Suddenly, I'm no longer in an overly bright hospital room. I'm seated in the dining room of a familiar cabin, small and homey, facing down a plate of green beans.

"We can sit here all night Mabel, but you best believe you'll be finishing those green beans." The words come from behind me; I rotate in my chair to see my mother, in her prime, staring me down with hands on her hips.

"But I don't LIKE green beans," the words come from my mouth without conscious thought. And I do like green beans, I think, something 7 year old me would be horrified to learn.

"Too bad, because I made a big ol' pecan pie for dessert. Looks like pa and I will be finishing that ourselves." With these words, she sashays into the kitchen, leaving me staring after her.

The world shifts again. Suddenly I'm sitting in the front seat of a beat up Oldesmobile, Halloween playing on the drive in screen 20 yards away, Ricky Garner leaning in towards me. I remember this scene; my almost first kiss. I cringe as I recall what will happen next. Right on cue, Bella Alwin bangs on the drivers side door, distracting Ricky and his puckered lips. He rolls the window down for her and she says, batting her eyelashes and utterly ignoring me, "Hey Ricky. My car's dead, and me and Rach can't figure out how to jump it. Mind coming to help us?"

"Uh yeah, sure." He gets out of the car without a word to me, following Bella as she flounces through the parking lot. I know that he won't return until the movie is long over.

I blink again, and this time, it's my wedding night. Andy and I are parked in the lot of Mcdonald's, wolfing down burgers and french fries, bemoaning the teeny tiny portions of beef slop our wedding caterer had served us. We're howling with laughter, and I feel my cheeks aching from smiling so much; I've never been so happy, and so in love. I'd forgotten how it had felt; how that night had set up the next 34 years of our marriage.

Another blink, another tilt of the world. Now I'm the one staring down a 7 year old. "Why on earth did you draw on the walls Cara? There's plenty of paper in your playroom!"

She stares guiltily up at me and says, "Benji said it was okay mom, I swear, he told me you'd like some art we made to be forever!" I blow out of my nose and turn around. It's exactly the sort of thing her brother would convince her of. I can see the sink full of dishes, and a basket full of laundry waiting to be folded, and know I need to start dinner in the next half hour or we won't be eating before 8. Now's not the time to fix Cara's Sharpie drawing of our family; 5 neat stick figures and one smaller one depicting Pepper, the family dog, carefully lined up on the kitchen wall, at perfect 7 year old eye height. I didn't know it at the time, but that drawing would remain there for another 3 years before we finally got around to painting over it.

With this blink, I'm brought back to my hospital bed, reeling from what I've seen, what I've remembered, what I've relived. My family stares down at me, concerned. I have no idea what I must have looked like, what time has passed for them, if any.

I smile. If this life is all I've done, I've done enough.

“Hey Lizzy!!!

“Hey Monica!”

“Ready to go shopping!!”

“Obviously!”

“Ok let’s go!”

“Let me tie my-“

Lizzy turns around and he jaw drops.

“Monica? Are you ok?”

“Why did you stop moving?!”

“Wait did time freeze!”

“Shoe”

“Monica your back!”

“What do you mean, i’ve been here to whole time”

“No i swear time like froze!”

“You must have been imagining things Lizzy.”

“Yeah probably, let’s just go.”

They walk into the first store.

“So Monica what should-“

“Monica! Not again!”

“Hello, Lizzy”

“Huh. Who are you!?”

“The only other person who can freeze time”

“So I can freeze time! Cool!!”

“No! Not cool!”

“Why not?”

“Walk with me and I will explain.”

After he explains.

“Oh so how do I control my powers though?”

“Training.”

“Umm ok”

“Let’s go follow me!”

After they train.

“Ok i’m ready I think!”

“Good don’t let anyone know about your powers!”

“Lizzy hello! Are you going to finish what you’re saying?”

“Oh sorry what should we get?”

“I don’t know I kinda wanna go home!”

“Ok that’s fine. Bye see you later!”

“Yeah probably tomorrow bye bye!”

“Oh monica about what I said earlier I was just day dreaming so bye!”

“Ok Bye!”

He watched as the fly crawled along the edge of his paperwork, an occasional flutter of a wing or pause to clean a forelimb.

How long had he been sitting here, the fly his only source of entertainment and companionship? Fatigue weighed down his bones and slumped his shoulders. He wanted to sleep, but that put him at risk of losing his place.

Cottonmouth. And his eyes were dry from sitting directly under the HVAC. How could a draft dry his contacts and feel stagnant, as though it had been the same stale air for millennia? He wondered now if it had been hours or days or weeks since he walked into this place.

Had he been young once before all this started?

How was it, here, in this Nothing, that time could simultaneously speed up and slow down? It was like every second was a year, every minute a lifetime, every lifetime a few seconds. But it was also as though the world outside, the world he longed to return to, was traveling through time at an increasingly fast speed without him. Everything he dreamed of, everything he wanted to take part in, was blazing past him, forever lost, as he sat in this… what? What could he call it?

If asked how long he’d been there, he could say, “I’ve never not been here” or “I am not yet here,” and believe both to be true.

Time meant nothing.

Everything that was to happen in this place would happen in its own time, at its own pace. Maybe it had already happened. Perhaps, like Utopia, it never would—left on the horizon forever as unattainable.

The fly flew away. He watched it as it circled in lazy loops, flying high and low, zooming around him like an acrobat before finally flying too far away for him to see. He looked around. How many others were trapped here in this limbo? Local business people, teachers, delivery drivers, doctors, lawyers, teenagers, and retired persons huddled together but still separated in one of the only genuine moments of total equity. Indeed, this was not heaven. Hell was worse, probably. But how much worse could it be?

He longed for something, anything, to take his attention. Nothing worked. None of the usual things- his phone, a book, conversation, even just people watching or daydreaming—pulled his mind away from the endless tedium. All was futile. No one spoke. No one smiled. No one did… anything.

They all merely waited.

For how long?

There was no answer because to answer meant to know and to know meant certainty, and certainty was not a commodity traded in this place; It was anathema here. All that mattered here was the wait. He imagined himself as Dante and above the door: All Who Enter Must Wait.

There was no way to make time move faster or even know if it was moving at all. In this place, Time did as it wanted, and, as though in love with itself and longing to squeeze out every precious moment of itself for as long as it possibly could, Time slowed and slowed and slowed and slowed until the very perception of Time was that of only the Infinite.

He wanted to cry out, scream, shake his fellow un-travellers by the collar, and ask if they could all rise up, bring this to some conclusion, fight for something, anything!

But no. He could merely wait for the voice, the light, the Decider, to call for him.

“Now serving number 12.”

He looked at the mocking red LEDs that echoed the voice, showing a big red twelve on the number board. He looked at his ticket. He was number 1,035.

Maybe he didn’t need his driver’s license renewed at all. Perhaps he could ride the bus. Or walk.