The best cello recital

They say romance is dead, but those folks have never been romanced this thoroughly, with this much determination. Sometimes you find romance and love in the weirdest of places, I am living proof of that strangeness. 

My partner and I were picking our way around what I believe used to be a Bed and Breakfast when they came across what I can only describe as a deeply haunted doll.

I mean, I hated it at first sight. But, it was a touching thing to receive. I mean how many times over the course of your life does anyone give you a haunted doll? That has to mean something right?

The next chance we got we hucked it over the edge of a bridge and nailed a street sign. Hucking things off bridges is how we met so it was thematically accurate to the course of our relationship. I guess that’s why we ended up where we did, you meet someone like that and everything you end up doing ends up weird. 

‘Hey honey, hey look over there!’ 

I swear to God if I had anything in me to shit out, I would have browned my pants.

‘Don’t yell, what the fuck Isola’. I must admit my tone was sharp.

Isola pulled me down next to what remained of a traffic bollard and pointed at something in the dimming light. I couldn’t quite make out what it was, it was about six feet tall, very hairy and appeared to be dragging a large cello. 

I mean, whatever, everyone handles the literal end of the world differently. It hasn’t gotten as dark as people thought it would, most people figured out they could get as weird as they wanted and just went hard. 

‘Yeah, old mate is just having a hard time, decided to take up the cello. We huck haunted dolls and crockery off bridges, we can’t judge’.

Isola slapped their hand over my face, which rude, and shushed me, which overkill. 

Whatever had decided to expand its musical repertoire had stopped at the edge of the water. It was staring down at the water, and there was something in its stance, its body language. It was wistful somehow. Its head was cocked at an odd angle. 

I must admit it was a weird thing to see, but again the Apocalypse made everyone weirder so whatever. If someone wanted to dress up like a Bigfoot to make themselves feel better, then whatever? 

While I was ruminating on the nature of mankind, I didn’t notice that Isola was halfway to Mr Bigfoot. Look they’re really pretty but not always the brightest crayon in the pack, more curious than cautious.

They were clamouring over a broken down car when I was able to flag them down. 

‘Isola!’ 

That was a poorly timed shout, they went down like a sack of shit. I laughed, it wasn’t very kind but in my defence, it was very funny. I’m not sure if it was my yelling or my laughing but Mr Bigfoot heard and his head whipped around comically fast.

‘Isola! Isola, it’s not a mask! It’s actual goddam Bigfoot’.

Well, fuck me. 

Isola, apparently, didn’t hear me as they were head down inside a car. Mr actual factual Bigfoot certainly did. He, it, whatever I don’t know what gender Bigfoot is, just looked confused as fuck. Old mate was going through the five stages of grief with his cello and we were the weirdos?

I picked my way, ungracefully, through the garbage and debris trying desperately to reach them. I’m not sure what happened after that, I think I must have knocked myself out because the next thing I know I’m staring at a completely different sky. When I say sky, I mean ceiling, shut up I had head trauma. You try being articulate when you brain yourself this hard. 

The main difference being, that it’s 90% goddamn actual factual Bigfoot. I scrambled backwards and hit my head against something hard. My vision was blurry, I think I must have hit my head a lot harder than I thought. 

I mean I must have otherwise there was no way that I would see Isola jamming on the cello with Bigfoot. After they realised that I had rejoined the world of conscious folks, several loud things happened at once.

Isola almost dropped the cello, apparently, Bigfoot has quick reflexes and is super loud when excited, outmatched only by Isola who I think broke the sound barrier. 

Apparently, when Isola and Bigfoot saw me go crashing down in the remains of a BMW they both rushed to help me and furthermore were super worried when I didn’t wake up for several hours.

Not many doctors in the apocalypse, at least not in these here parts. 

Isola, my partner the love of my life, had made friends with a cryptid just to keep me safe. It’s kinda cute when you think about it. I couldn’t help but laugh, how the fuck was this my life? 

They communicated mostly in mime and some grunting when I posited that this was how Isola normally communicated I was, very gently, whacked for my troubles. Bigfoot almost chastised Isola for this but paused when I laughed. I saw that wistful look in his eyes again. Old mate had gone through some stuff, probably lost someone and now probably had no-one to talk to, no family.

Fuck it he had us now! It’s the Apocalypse, fuck it. 

Bigfoot started playing his cello and grunting cheerfully at Isola. Scratch that it was definitely cute. We were in the bowels of what used to be a Dominoes, it was raining outside so that scuppered any plans of moving on anytime soon.

I resigned myself to listening to Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1, and the rain as performed by my new best friend and Mother Nature. There was an old couch in one of the corners of the room, a pile of unopened mostly ok bags of shredded cheese, and the love of my life. All and all, I was pretty happy, we could continue travelling tomorrow, I had everything I needed right here.