Stories From The Moon

Seis - Wanderer

The sun is already rising when he decided to rest from writing draft for his novel. With several cups of coffee on his desk and some already dropped on the floor. Crumpled papers scattered around. His dark room is more like a stock room than an actual bedroom proven by the stacks of paper, old and new books and stuffs that totally does not belong there but is there because he find it bothersome to transfer it to another place.

He thought of cleaning his room every now and then but forgets it as soon as he is immersed in writing. You see, his love for writing never changed even as he grow up when people told him it is just a hobby he will forget once he become an adult. He proved them wrong when his books became one of the best-selling books and made his name known across the world.

5:32 am. The clock reads. Another day for everyone. He went out of his bedroom slash work room and cook himself some breakfast before going out of his apartment to take a stroll even just a bit. Being alone for a very, very long time doesn't bother him anymore. He did have some past relationships before but didn't last long as some of his partners demands time from him while he's busy writing. He would drop a date right then and there when an idea pops up on his mind that he cannot just mentally note to himself to save for later on as he knows that once he starts writing he will not let himself be distracted unless he's done with it to which his past relationships didn't work out because it seemed that ' writing words is more important to you '

Now, he had already stuffed some food in his stomach. He locked the door of his apartment and started his morning walk.

He considers morning walk therapeutic. Going for a walk is considered a physical activity it counts as an exercise, he likes inhaling morning air, he can observe people, it seems to clear his mind and at the same time gives him ideas on what he should write next. He had seen hundreds and thousands people's lives and wrote book based from those yet he still crave for more.

As he continue his morning stroll, he subconsciously compares the place from how it looked before. He observes that the place is now filled with bricks everywhere with only a little space for grass and trees to grow. Buildings are visible everywhere he place his eyes on. Being alive for a hundred years gave him the advantage of seeing the world develop into how it is today.

Yes. Our protagonist is an immortal being.

He didn't really remember how he became one. If a good sorcerer just voluntarily gave him immortal life upon knowing he don't want to die without proving he can make a thousand books or if he sold his soul to the devil. He just realized that he still has his youthful physique when his friends, all wrinkled and white hairs, are slowly dying.

He paused when he saw a woman on one of the benches reading a book. His book. The book he wrote under one of his several pen names. The book that he wrote and was published on 1754. That certain book he used as his medium to express his frustration when he couldn't find the will to live as the ideas, prompts, nor plot won't come to his mind during those times.

Living for seven hundred years, travelling to places here and there, and have written books ever since he can remember, he already witness seeing fanatic readers express their want to meet him personally to thank him and ask some questions about his works, however, due to his situation and his hard-to- believe age, he cannot introduce himself as the author and he can only listen to their rants without being able to respond to any of them.

When he is alone at his apartment, he is a full-time author behind numerous books under several genres. But when he is outside, he's Jerry, David, Tommy, Axel, Sam, Adam and many more. He's a barista, a talent scout, photographer, film director, cashier, and all the jobs you can think of.

He greets his neighbor, Lucy, when he saw her at the elevator and she returned the greeting with a big smile and high energy. They had first met 2 years ago when he moved in the apartment. Lucy is a jolly girl who works at a bookstore. She seems to always be in a good mood when they talk. It's really not that hard to be friends with her and he considers her as the first friend he had after moving from a far place.

They have had many conversations ever since and kept a close friendship, with Lucy going to him to rant about things like her life, her work, her family, or about her double shot espresso that stained her shirt while she's on her way to work. He had also had his fair share of rants but he's mindful of what he says, still secretive. Lucy had once complained to him that he is such a private person. 'Well, good thing you found me as your friend.'

Now that he's back in his apartment, he lay down on his bed relaxing his body to be able to sleep and rest his mind.

1 year later. He just came back from his meeting with his editor about the story he's working on. Still a long way to go but this is what he loves doing.

As he was about to put thought to paper, his mind drifted back to the his and Luccy's conversation the previous night when they we're hanging out and both intoxicated.

" You know, I have already read many books but there's something the story that I'm currently reading right now that really, really caught my attention." She says as she flops down on the couch beside him. They we're just wasting time forgetting their adult responsibilities.

"Oh yeah? What is it?" He responded, chuckling a bit, the night is still young yet Lucy looks like she's off to dreamland.

"Oh, you know 'The Lone Wanderer' " she said, her eyes closed. Looking so carefree.

He was speechless at that. He couldn't find the words to reply to that. That book was one of his first published book and is inspired by his loneliness when all of his family and friends had already died living him alone.

"I really like it because, you know? It is somehow alike to my life story. I resonate with it very much. Terry Alkines is now one of my favorite authors and I'm off to reading more of his works. Well, I mean the book was published ages ago but still. Classic books are right up my alley." She explained, slowly losing consciousness.

He left her apartment after that. Went to his bed and slept.

He suddenly realized he got distracted while writing.

A knock was heard coming from his front door. He stood up to know who it was. It is unlikely for him to have a visitor and he don't remember ordering food.

He saw Lucy as soon as he opened the door seemingly sober and is already wearing her tooth commercial worthy smile. But what shocked him the most is the thing that she's holding on her hands and showing it in front of him.

"Can I get an autograph from my new found favorite author?"