レト / series / hero
9:47pm.
Another day was coming to an end. This one, like the others, had been a disappointment. Maybe tomorrow will be better. That’s always the hope. Procrastination at its best.
“Shit. I forgot the package.” Sam was on its way back to bed. Socks scattered in the living room. He had emigrated earlier in the evening after pillaging the fridge. Wearing his pajamas top and no pants, he opened the front door.
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c35ba7576f1818d8de14d4d66e3e251cffe6ff97 書く face6ebf7c39698ca1cfad5d9b310d2f d0e84a073ab18cfbdc3ea18092c66c75 76050b6862606edfa19c0bc54339d800c6f7016d89c55c539ff58d21a462d2a1 Epo’u Write. da16fb5acb9348bf5c2655c7c61791e6c9074c3dc9554ad69082][6823ab5e95752ea63e89d77a1767212fa819aae12e19 Ⓦⓡⓘⓣⓔ. 8981725eebc57e62c770aede4680WRITE8e487401402a75287f8f29e637f71e2556d209ed00-0f3dc843eee539a9cd80e73dc28e3a705dc6a8d280b09f8d9ebb102243 Werit.
tsala. kākau. teitha-. kowalza. idatzi. लिख्. allappoq. kirjoittaa. écrire. tulis. yazmak. skryf. ghItlh. ጻፍ. kyerɛw. skribi. amatlacuiloa.
Dear Sandra,
Thank you so much for your letter. It was very moving to read you after all these years. It took me a while to get back to you. I apologize. I’m terrible at opening my mail. I’m even worse at putting a response on paper. In fact, my whole life is kind of a big disaster. Do you ever get tired of being? I’m so exhausted. I wake up tired in the morning. I feel lethargic all day. I usually have a burst of energy towards the night but that’s actually a curse because it tends to make me want to be active at a time where I should be winding down to go to sleep instead. It’s a nightmare. My eating habits are also all over the place. I’m struggling to lose weight, too: I give myself pretty tight constraints that I don’t respect as soon as the first sign of stress triggers all the alarms. It’s been a long journey to trim down the f–
Sorry, I’m boring myself talking about all this. What a shitshow. Congrats on your marriage. I hope you enjoyed your honeymoon in Venice.
Maybe our paths will cross one day.
But I doubt it.
I reached the end of the line.
Bye.
L.
The knock reverberated downstairs again; louder. Angrier.
What time was it?
She grabbed the dusty tome from the ornate shelf. It fell with a heavy “thunk” on the old table. She slowly opened it to page 1337:
Republic of Ğunä (unofficially: The Ğunä), country located in central Sirna. A landlocked nation featuring diverse landscapes from the Ğunäri Steppe in the north to the Zeqır Plateau in the south. The Tirgul River and the Uça River are the primary waterways, providing irrigation to fertile farmlands in the southwest.
The Republic counts approximately 1.4 billion inhabitants according to the official census of the year 1.75b2. However, it is estimated that approximately 800 million of unaccounted individuals also live within the borders of The Ğunä.
The seat of the Ğunäri governement is distributed among 3 capital cities (Wyn, Prin, and Slovozı) as described in the Goat Agreement (short for the official document known as A Lazy Yet Constructive Agreement In Exchange for Azil’s Milk Goat) of the year 2z.99b4.
“Why Hurry When You Can Nap?” is the official motto of the country. It was adopted in the year 3f11c1 to replace the previous official motto of the country–“Don’t Be Evil x2”–and distance the government from multinational corporation Glouglou, which was involved in its first cotton candy scandal that year.
The Ğunäri king has been missing since the year 4p.11n7. Call x-bde–pl-‘č1! if you have information.
What time was it? That YouTube retrospective on one of his favorite childhood video games had led him deep into the rabbit hole. Sam didn’t want to deal with anybody or anything today. He didn’t want to deal with anybody or anything yesterday either. Or even the day before.
It was 3:10pm. Ugh. “It’s the package I ordered this morning,” he thought to himself.
He didn’t even remember what he had bought. He couldn’t muster the energy to get up either. He felt groggy from the hypnosis the knock had dispelled.
He had 30 tabs open on his laptop when he heard a fist hammering on the front door. The roll of thunder resonated in the distant hallway; an outrageous sonic intrusion in this accursed cavern.
Sam was lonely. He had forgotten how to feel. He had forgotten how to be. He had forgotten the meaning of meaning itself. He had filled his life with small chores and insignificant rewards he consumed mindlessly. Everything was on a calendar. Everything was on a list.
When he couldn’t bare the confines of the routines he had barricaded himself in, he would just go off the tracks and spend hours doing a single thing. Or a thousand, scattered things. None of them were on the List. None of them were on the Calendar.
二古道 男が歩く 土の音
Entry 18. It’s really consuming me that I can’t tell if it’s night or day. They don’t let us go outside. So, sometimes, I just count seconds for a while. The most I did was 1257. I feel like a kid. I can’t do anything without asking permission. All the doors are locked. The food is shit. I’m fucking starving all the time. I think I’ll die here. I don’t belong in this hol3. The guy with the crazy look beat me up again yesterday when I was in the bathroom. I had to spend all my money on the stupid pen I’m using to write. I don’t get any visit. It’s not allowed here. Just a bunch of monsters in a cage that feed on the weak. It’s not real. It can’t be.
She was going to implode. The words on the screen of her phone, bearer of this terrible news, were sizzling; red hot like the rod farmers use to tattoo cattle. She stood motionless in the aisle of the supermarket until her gaze diverted slowly from the device. A patron who was after the box of whole wheat pasta just behind gave her a look that she was too absorbed to notice. A single tear rolled from her cheek. A voice echoed in her head. “I want to die.”
“What’s the point?” she blurted.
“Huh?” Tania was caught off guard. A few seconds passed in silence. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”
“What do you—Of course it matters! It matters to me!”
“Ok.”
She let an annoyed sigh. “That’s all you gonna say? ‘Ok?’”
Her friend finally looked up. “What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything. Just tell me what you think.”
“I told you. I don’t know.”
“Ugh. You’re not helpful.”
Tania raised her arms in a sarcastic shrug. “Sorry?”
The blade pierced the orc’s skin just like butter. Kryn’s plate armor glistened under the scorching sun as he pulled his sword back. He turned towards Sia. “You doing alright?” Another volley of arrows flew from her delicately-sculpted bow, decimating the band of green-skinned fighters charging her. Corpses were piling up several meters away. None of her victims had made it close enough to swing their bulky axe anywhere near her. She didn’t even care to dignify the paladin’s superfluous question with a look towards him or even a grunt. She was enjoying this bloodbath. Yet, her impeccable composure did not betray how she really felt about the massacre she had provoked.
He noticed her immediately among the dozens of people eating and drinking at the tables of this renowned establishment. She was examining the menu with attention. Her long frizzy black hair was as beautiful as ever. She had tied it in a generous chignon bun. Two long curls framed her fleshy cheeks perfectly. Behind her red glasses, Erwan saw the look of a person who was fully absorbed by the task at hand. There was something child-like about her. He put his hand on her naked shoulder. She jolted. A squeal of joy followed. Her face lit up with the wide, contagious smile he was so fond of.
There is no better prison than the mind. The world is open and wide but your mind chains you to your bed. No lock is necessary. The door in the distance is as heavy as the gates of an impregnable castle.
The brain juice is rarefied. Nothing comes out of this wasteland. Too many decades were spent running in circles. The dream boat crashed on the menacing rocks because the captain couldn’t read the map. He stayed in his cabin like a coward. An excellent shipwreck in this sea of nothingness.