anemoia

This is plotless and makes no sense btw (just a reminder)

***

“Um. Thank you.”

The bus driver glanced at me as an acknowledgement, as the music seeped through his walkman.

I got off and watched him speed again.

The sun bored merciless, frying all thoughts in my brain. So I walked.

It was almost as if everything I could set eyes on had a vintage tint to it.

Nothing had changed. So I walked.

It was a lazy afternoon. Nobody roamed, except the few street dogs lolling on the patch of green near the corner store.

Oh. The corner store.

“Just the soda?”

I stared blankly at the lady. Her bright pink lipstick was all over her teeth as she chewed on the bubblegum. Sweat dripped from the back of her neck, ruining her flaunty curled hair.

“Snap out of it babe.” She waved her hand in front of my face. She chewed audibly on the sickly sweet-smelling gum.

“Yes. Um, sorry ma’am.” I picked out the soiled note in my pocket, grabbing the rip-off soda from the counter.

She smacked her lips, the chewing getting more and more annoying. “Hun, that’s too much for a soda now, isn’t it?”

I glanced at the price of the can.

This wasn’t my town.

No. I just walked out of the only general store in the proximity of my street, which had been there before my birth. It was my town.

The heavy change I received from the lady sagged in my pockets. Deflation? The price I just paid probably couldn’t afford that gum she was chewing.

The soda was hot, and the fizz burnt my tongue more than the sun did to my shoe soles. So I walked.

On the other side of the road, was a clock shop. Or a watch shop. Or the time shop.

“Hello dear. It’s 12:27:43 post meridiem.”

“Yes sir.”

“Maybe a tonneau wristwatch?”

“No sir. I’m afraid I can’t afford it.”

“Oh sure you can.”

All the clocks ticked in unison.

“You’re not from now.”

The soda tasted like sweet syrup now, with the fizz dead.

“Yonder the dawn shall wither your soul and darken the very womb you came from.”

I turned around, ready to leave.

“Dear. The fee.” He extended a hand, his eyes fixated on a grand clock, its time frozen at 5:53.

Too afraid to question, I placed the odd coins on his aged palm, a testimony of hard work and time.

I set foot in the broad sunlight again. The sky was devoid of clouds.

My pocket felt lighter, but something around my wrist tugged.

The tonneau watch read 12:25.

I crushed the can, dropping it near the spilt open trash bags, fleas attracted all around.

I heard the waves calling out, whispering a welcome.

‘L’autre monde’. The words engraved on the rusted fence around the playground read.

The gate opened with a loud creak, and I walked in, straight for the stairs, which led down to the sea.

A hot and heavy wind blew, as the merry-go-round creaked anti-clockwise.

I turned around, realising the sand was hot.

A gorgeous pink Cadillac stopped at the gate.

“Get in.”

I squinted my eyes at the contents of the car, a bunch of carefree teens, a huge polythene of soda cans at one of them’s feet.

“I'm not from now.” I adjusted myself to a seat.

The driver tilted her head in confusion, but her vision remained fixated on the empty road. Her sunglasses were a rip-off, stuck on top of her head, and a red tint of lipstick stained her front teeth, but she did not seem to mind.

“Where are we headed?” The boy beside her asked. He had several bruises on his legs, uncovered by the pair of worn-out shorts he wore. His sports shoes were covered in mud, and a baseball kit kept tucked beside him.

“Wherever the wind blows.” I stared at the boy to my right, as he raised his arm, analysing the direction of the wind.

The teen had messy hair, like that of a vintage pop idol, and a gentle look in his eyes, an affirmation of his maturity. A typical high school sweetheart. “Take a right. If you can.”

The road was a straight path, widening into a straight highway along the sea. There was no right or left.

I took out a soda from the bag. The chill numbed my fingers.

“What’s the time?”

I glanced at my newly bought watch, “exactly twelve.”

The boy nodded, and took out a soiled cap from his kit, fixating it on his sweaty forehead.

It was an uncomfortably hot afternoon.

The sun rested a while, hidden behind a cloud, which seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

The sudden change in temperature brought an unease in my head- a sensation of dizziness.

The highway was empty. Both sides of the highway were empty too. Except, one had the sea, the other, a never-ending patch of grass.

Another huge cloud appeared, dampening the surroundings, and giving a chance for us to relax our squinted eyes and stressed foreheads.

A house approached on the grassland.

A jazz tune transuded from its walls, and a light breeze started blowing, countering the previous blister of the hot air.

The car slowed down, stopping at the gated garden of the house.

A piercing screech of the vinyl record was heard, as the melody came to an abrupt end.

The clouds cleared, exposing the short-hidden wrath of the sun. The breeze halted.

I felt sweat building on my wrist, below the watch.

“Go,” I said.

The driver took out a can of soda, gulping it down. The rings around all her fingers clinked against it.

The house slowly drifted away, as the car moved further. The music continued playing without a hitch.

“Turn around.” I looked to my side. His hair blew away from his face, as he put his hand up again. “The wind’s direction has changed.”

I took out another soda from the bag. Its cheap aluminium was burning. The fizz had died.

The certain dizziness violently increased.

We drove along the same path we covered up until now.

The heat began to penetrate through our body, as we kept drinking syrupy soda to cool it down.

“Stop,” I tapped the shoulder of the driver.

We had reached L’autre Monde.

The merry-go-round still creaked anti-clockwise.

I stared at my watch, which followed the same pattern.

I got hold of the playground ride and turned it clockwise.

I turned towards the stairs, walking down to the seashore.

The merciless sun bore into my head, and I gave in, my vision overcome by a hazy veil.

***

Blue. All I could see was a light shade of blue.

A cool breeze swept over my face, and I found my hair dug into the sand.

Sand and the sea. And the sky.

Had there not been any waves, distinguishing between the sky and the sea would have been near impossible.

I looked at my watch. It read 5:53.

At a distance, a group of friends played with a beach ball.

“The wind blew up until you slept.” Said the man with messy hair, like that of a vintage pop idol, and a gentle look in his eyes, an affirmation of his maturity.

A certain jazz tune could be heard from a nearby house.

A/N: IT TOOK ME 3 MONTHS I CANT BELIEVE THIS ACTUALLY GOT OUT OF THE DRAFTS.

ONLY THE REAL OGS KNOW WHERE THE ENDING IS FROM @Philia S @Philia S @Philia S (vestige ch2 btw)

again, this is not really something i wish to put out for the world to judge or see, rather another piece in my collection.

i have encountered almost all sites in this story, much to my surprise on how surreal life can be.

if there is one song i would actually put a word to regarding the jazz tune, its The Singing Sea from one of the Cowboy Bebop soundtracks.