Getting It.

You let your head fall into the soft cradle of a cool pillow on a hot night, summers were always rough for you growing up, that sweltering heat comes and the City’s voice becomes near constant. You’re happy to finally be able to go to one of the few places where your curse can’t follow you; your dreams. Ever since you were a child the City has spoken to you, though never directly as a person would, the City spoke by flooding you with: visions, tastes, sounds, and sensations all felt by others. Some days you’re treated to the scent and flavor of the vanilla ice cream being shared between father and son, other days you find yourself flinching at ghosts as the sound of a car accident happening blocks away comes screaming into your mind. While you lay with eyes closed, drifting off to your awaited solace, you find yourself reminiscing on days when the voice of the City was only a whisper in your ear.

You roll and fuss in your bed, cooled by the dampness of your own sweat, you press slick palms over your eyes and pull down; releasing a massive sigh as you accept sleep may not be in the cards tonight. You sit up slowly and open your eyes only to yourself in your old college apartment, you look around and see it all in immaculate detail. Sleep must have come after all. You look at your own hands and flex your fingers, your curse always makes your dreams so vivid. On a hunch you hop up from the bed and into the air but fall back to the floor, this wasn’t a fully lucid dream like usual. You ignore a twinge of uncertainty and decide to just enjoy the atmosphere. Being back in this old space feels like a different world entirely, life was simpler in school when all you had to worry about were keeping decent grades and finding the time to take her out. You smile thinking about the picnics you used to go on, how you’d play with her dog, Honey, in the vibrant green grass, and how the air was hot and heavy in the summer but her skin was always cool and smooth. The summers with her were some of the only ones you could remember fondly. You inhale and the scent of dry red wine drifts through you, it makes your stomach curdle, shaking a head you leave the dimness of the bedroom and step into a bright sunny living room. A sinking feeling continues to form in your stomach as you look around, the television plays an old western as a pot lets off clouds of steam in the kitchen, the table is set with the finest dishes a college student could assemble. You feel fear grip your throat as you raise your right arm slowly, scared to confirm what you already know, your eyes shift and settle on the numbers. 6:15. You turn on your heel and head for the door, it’s happening again, the same nightmare at least once a summer for the past four years. You have time now, five minutes at least, you beeline for the door. You yank the door open and shoot a final glance over your shoulder, you can never help yourself, turning back forward as you step leads you to a jolt of pain in the center of your head as you step into something solid. Stumbling backwards your hands go up instinctively to grab your nose. Pulling your hands away you spot no blood but instead see something that makes it run cold, on your wrist the time stares you in the face.

6:20

You swallow and the saliva grinds down your dry throat as you look up and see her, framed in the open door like an antique painting, a familiar glint in her speckled green eyes that you can only observe for a moment before they drift down to the floor. You grit your teeth but your mouth forms a smile and releases those words regardless. 

“About time, dinner’s about done. Work keep you late?”

“Sorry I’m late.” She mumbles, you feel a burning heat in your eyes and a squeezing convulsing pain in your throat. “I have to talk to you about something.”

Again your traitorous mouth moves against your wishes, hot streaming lines etch down your face from the corners of your eyes as you speak:

”Is everything okay?”

“No..” You hear only as a whisper, quiet as the City’s.

Suddenly you find yourself surrounded by darkness, a pitch blackness that slowly gives way to dancing drifting specks of light. You feel the temperature around you fall as the darkness gives way to the sparkling lights of the city streets and buildings; you float high above the urban sprawl and drift lazily. Your confusion mounts, the dream wasn’t lucid but you still forced yourself out of it? Was this the work of your curse? You let your eyes take in everything below and your breathing slows until it’s steady and almost meditative. The scent of that red wine strikes you again and with it come the memories. Your rose tinted glasses fall away as you relive the heartache, the arguments, all the times you both went at each other’s necks, and the attempts to keep a broken ship afloat. Despite knowing better, despite knowing that this wasn’t real and despite literally floating above it all in the sea of darkness you could still hear her stifled sobs, her plea for forgiveness, how Honey whined when you stepped out the door for the final time. No more.

You do what came naturally back then, when your thoughts and the introspection were too much, shutting it all down regardless of the consequences and letting the voice of your curse drown out the self-loathing chorus in your mind. Even if this was a nightmare you are still connected to the City in the living world. You close your eyes and spread your arms wide, slowly leaning back as you hover; if the city pulled you here then maybe, just this once, you would trust it. One final deep inhale and a slow drawn out exhale is all it takes for you to open the flood gates, it doesn’t hesitate for a moment to run through you. Every nerve firing in unison with the City's lights, each breath coming and going like cold gusts across the bowery cobblestones, and the rushing of your blood mirroring the endless flow of people and vehicles on the streets. You feel the comforting embrace of the rough cotton sheets you had gotten so used to, you smell the burnt coffee from the stand on your way to work, and you feel the expanding pain of someone suffering through loss. Your eyelids flutter and your eyes roll back in your head as every sensory input in your body is flooded. You feel the people walking the sidewalks and various alleys as if they were on your bones, you inhale the dark clouds that swirl around you and exhale the rolling clouds of mist that sit on the river, opening your eyes reveals a slideshow of faces that are merely a blur but each one you felt you knew. This was new to you, mainlining the curse like an acid trip without the paranoia or uncertainty, everything was simultaneously under your control and completely random. Everything and everyone within city limits was no more than a card in a deck, and you were the dealer, every hand a known unknown. Never prepared but always expecting. You swallow and feel the familiar burn of someone else’s nightcap, as you slowly spin in the air you can't help but to start laughing at the absurdity of it all. The flow of information becomes too much to handle and you finally manage to silence it, all of it, and for the first time you experience the peace of absolute silence as you let your eyelids fall. You feel a comforting warmth on your face and the itch of grass on your bare arms. You open your eyes slowly and soft sunlight floods your retinas, you hold up a hand to block the gentle beams and see a small dark speck crawling on the back of your hand. A ladybug. You watch the creature crawl aimlessly about your hand for a few moments, only when it reaches the tip of your finger does a fleeting thought make you grin; perhaps this ladybug isn't wandering, perhaps it's moving with a great purpose.

"This is where we part." You say to the insect, not knowing why and feeling as if you’ve heard these words before.