Goodbye My Love

Goodbye My Love.

Exhausted, I fall on the cot, pull my knees, and blanket up, wrap my arms around my shoulders and force myself to ignore the tears pooling behind my closed eyelids. I fight sleep. I know I will sleep eventually, but when I sleep my memories will be erased.

In my dreams, the daily boredom and tedium are gently whisked away on a breeze. But it hurts when a joke and the cautious laughter that follows breaks away. It is painful when the sparkle in his eye, the twitch of his lips that is almost a smile, is ripped from me. I whimper when the memory of his feathery-light touch is shredded. The loss of those memories leaves red welts that will have faded by morning.

I blink away the useless tears as my memories of the day begin to drift away. Isolated memories might disappear one by one. A series will be strung together as if sewn with invisible threads. The big ones, the ones I savored all day will float away with large red crosses blotting out the image.

Blankness will be the only thing left by morning and new messages will be imprinted.

You are valued as an individual

You are valued as a member of the workforce

You are valued as an individual member of the workforce

Each member of the workforce is stronger as it stands alone.

One workforce member does not favor another.

On and on the erasing and the implanting will continue. The messages come from the pillow, the mattress, and the walls. There is no escaping their insidiousness. Before all my thoughts are gone, I try to relive the past two days.

*~*

Two nights ago, I slept outside under the stars where the messages couldn't reach me. I stared up into the neoprene endlessness. There I relived each moment of the day before. I wondered if, hoped that he was doing the same. I spent the night remembering his whispered words, the stir of air when he passed me, the cadence of his gait.

The next day, yesterday, like every day, I ate the standard breakfast. High in fiber, protein, and fat. Low in carbs and sugars. At the first blast of the horn, I left my pod and joined the other individual workers to the train stop. Everyone patiently waited for their turn to board. When there was not enough space on the train, as usual, we waited for the next one. I forced myself to be like the others and not fidget. I made myself look at the ground before me.

When the train arrived at our designated stop, we followed a prescribed route to our place of work. We lined up to be recognized.

“Hey.” His whisper was soft, no more than the rustle of young leaves in a gentle breeze. I widened my eyes at the biometric reader.

8347 on duty. Report to Bay 6.

He let his eyes be read.

8299 on duty. Report to Bay 7.

“Did you do it?” He walked half a pace behind me. His familiar, light, voice held a hint of a smile.

A quick, tiny nod. “Did you?” I tried not to lift my head, but I wanted to look at him and smile. I wanted to let him know that I like his voice, the attention he gives me.

“Of course.”

“I wonder …” I stopped, we were approaching 5449, our supervisor.

“Later” I could barely hear him over the clatter of the machines.

My hands, which were fisted at the side of my pants, unfurled, I tapped three fingers against the seam. I didn’t know if he saw, but I had no other way of communicating.

Twelve hours later the eye reader let me go.

8347 off duty. Reminder of Mandatory Concert tonight.

I slowed my pace as I turned toward the train station while I listened to 8965 and 7293 coming off duty. My heart skipped a beat hearing 8298 pass the reader. Then …

8299 off duty. Reminder of Mandatory Concert tonight.

“Tonight.” He walked past me, the back of his hand brushing against mine. A scrap of paper was left behind. I clenched my hand around it, tucked my head between my shoulders, forced my breathing to slow and walked to my station.

Not until I entered my pod did I open my hand.

Behind the pavilion, into the trees.

After my regulation dinner, I joined the others and walked to the concert. I worried that the sweat I felt trickling down my back was visible through my thick jacket. The horseshoe-shaped concrete stands, giving everyone a perfect view of the stage, were uncomfortable. The soothing measured cadence of the music made the long wait till intermission excruciating.

At the concession, I asked for lemonade, then waited to be the last one to enter the restrooms. In the stall I panted nervously into my cupped hands, hoping no one heard me. Praying my anxiety hadn’t triggered any sensors.

When I exited the restroom, the gates to the stands had already closed as I knew they would. I tried to be casual as I wandered in the half-light behind the stands and pretended to watch the orchestra from the side of the stage.

I saw 8299 slip into the dark under the trees. Nobody followed him. I swallowed, fidgeted, and forced myself to lean against the wall. Lowering my eyelids, apparently entranced by the music, I stealthily looked around. Nobody was watching me. I slid to the back of the Pavillion, waited several erratic heartbeats in its shadow and dashed toward the trees.

His hand took mine. I gasped, never having been touched before, but followed him silently. We rushed between the trees, scampered down a rough path. Then he pulled me into a shallow cave.

“Finally.” He panted with a soft laugh.

We stared at each other, breathless, not knowing what to do next. Without being told, my body leaned toward him. I craved to know the texture of his skin. His hand touched my cheek, I turned my head into his palm, my nose nuzzled, and my lips tasted him.

And then …

The most exotic, mind-boggling, all-consuming feeling. His lips on mine. My lips on his. The taste of his breath. The feel of our tongues touching, exploring. His arms bound me against his chest. My arms wrapped around his back. I marveled at the feel of his skin and hair as my fingers explored. Then I was deliciously caught between the damp, mossy wall, and his warm body.

So many sensations!

The world stopped spinning. The world I knew didn’t exist anymore. Suddenly there were exquisite colors, fabulous music, and almost intolerable heat. This individual worker didn’t ever want to be an individual again.

~*~

This morning, they found us at daybreak. We were naked, wrapped in each other’s arms, legs twisted together, grass and leaves sticking to our sweat-stained skin.

They tried to shame us as they marched us through town. But we proudly held our heads up, smiling at the memory of us. We were too far apart to see or hold hands. There was no trial before we were shoved into separate cells. I couldn’t hear his shouts anymore after the door closed with a hiss, locking me in this windowless room, empty except for this cot and thin blanket

Desponded, I pull my knees and the blanket up. Wrap my arms around my chest and squeeze my eyes shut. I know that soon the memories of our glorious night will be erased. I can feel the first ones being severed from me.