Shrouded

.IX.

When the darkness passed, Jaqueline shook me from a meditation-like stupor. I hadn't truly fallen asleep, just drifted into that hazy, in-between realm of half-consciousness.

I stood up, brushing myself off, and we discussed the plan for the day. 'Plan' was a very loose term; we had a goal, of sorts, to 'atone' and be forgiven, but we had no concrete steps to reach said goal. We decided, once more, to just walk.

Exiting the building we'd spent the night at, we continued in the same direction from the day previous. There was no telling which way was north; with no sun in the sky, there was no way to orient ourselves to a cardinal direction. The vast ceiling of the realm remained the same tea-beige all day long, differing only as it darkened at night. No discernable weather patterns appeared: it was neither hot nor cold, never rainy or windy.

As we walked, we noticed only one change: the Lost began to thin. When before, there had been crowds of other souls, there was now only the odd wanderer, drifting apathetically through the streets.

Jaqueline nudged me with her elbow after one such Lost had passed us by. "Do you see that?"

"See what?" I scanned the seemingly endless line of sagging buildings and empty alleys.

She pointed straight ahead, to the horizon. Studying the distance, I saw the abrupt end of the City.

We nodded at each other, mutually deciding to head for the edge.

-

We hastened to the horizon, jogging quickly in anticipation of new surroundings, something to break the monotony of the dull cityscape. When we reached our destination, our way was blocked by a waist high, chain link fence, like the one I'd come over when entering the city. Thinking along the same lines, Jaqueline touched the rusty links gingerly, then wiped her orangey-stained finger on her pants leg.

"Does this thing, like, go all the way around the City?"

"I don't know..." I looked up and down the length of the fence. As far as I could see in either direction, it continued in a straight line without curves, breaks, or changes. "Did you come over one when you came in?"

"Yeah, when I arrived, I came through this, like, grey door, and was standing in this field. Some guy came up to me, looked at my hand, and told me to 'atone', and then just left! It was all, like, so weird. I didn't know what else to do, so I started walking and ended up climbing over a fence like this. I met you, like, a week later, I think, maybe, but time is weird here, so who knows."

I thought back to when I first arrived. I remembered the man, tall and dark and droopy, and now that Jaqueline mentioned it, I faintly envisioned a grey door. I tried to think back to before the door, but felt another headache creeping in, so I stopped.

I looked beyond the fence. For the first couple hundred yards, it was dirt with sparse grass, like I walked over before entering the City. After that, I could just make out taller grass and the skeletal forms of dead trees and bushes.

"Should we turn around, or..." I wasn't sure what the next move should be. When I arrived in purgatory, the expanse of the field had seemed endless and unchanging. I wasn't sure if I wanted to leave the City, the one different place I'd seen, and return to wandering the dead grasses.

"I don't want to go back out there," Jaqueline said, her lips pursed. "The City seems like the place we need to be. That weird guy from the other day said so, basically."

I remembered the man's words: In the City, you can atone. I nodded, and after a short conference, Jaqueline decided we should travel back a ways, find an empty building, and maybe stay there for a while.

"We could, like, make it our little house, or something, while we figure all this out. I'm tired of just walking."

I agreed. Walking didn't really accomplish much. It was just an activity that brought comfort in its familiarity.

We turned and headed again into the city without glancing back at the fence, or the field beyond.

-

After maybe an hour of walking, spotting only a few Lost along the way (Jaqueline had a theory that the souls grouped in the center of the city, and didn't wander toward the edges often), we found a one story building that was slightly less saggy than the rest. Opening the front door, we stepped into an open room that spanned the entirety of the building. It had a few windows that let in the weak, brown light.

Jaqueline sighed at the dreary interior. "I wish we had, like, some flowers or something. Some color."

"Yeah." I ran my hand along the bare wall. "Something pretty." Turning to Jaqueline, I asked, "What's your favorite flower?"

She sighed wistfully. "Roses. Pink roses. My admirers would buy them for me all the time." She said 'admirers' with a thick, southern belle accent, then giggled. "What were yours, Skinny?"

I shrugged automatically; my veiled memory kept me from knowing any of my past favorites, but then a vision tickled at the back of my mind. I closed my eyes and a picture crept forth, yellow-orange petals and wide green leaves, the plant even taller than me. I opened my eyes. "Sunflowers, I think."

Jaqueline smiled widely. "Are you, like, remembering stuff?"

"I don't know." I slid down the wall to sit on the floor, and Jaqueline came to rest beside me. "Maybe? I keep getting little flashes of visions. I hope so."

"Wanna play that question game again?"

I remembered her triggering my memory with the word orange. 'Night' was falling outside, and with nothing better to do, I nodded.

"Hm. Okay... Foods!"

"We did foods already."

"No, we did fruits. Now we're, like, expanding."

I laughed, and gestured for her to go ahead.

"Okay. Ice cream."

I shook my head.

"Sushi?"

I made a 'yuck' face. I didn't remember eating sushi, but the thought of raw fish grossed me out, so I assumed it hadn't been a favorite.

"Pasta."

Something about pasta seemed familiar, so I nodded encouragingly.

Her face brightened. "Ooh, okay, um... spaghetti."

I shook my head.

"Fettuccini alfredo?"

The familiar feeling increased. "Almost, but not quite," I said.

She considered for a moment. "Chicken Florentine? That stuff was, like, so good. One of our maids was from France, and she'd make it for me-"

I cut her off with a gasp as a wave of memory hit me. The same black curls, now attached to a tall, thin woman, tied back in a messy bun at the base of her neck. She leaned over a pot, stirring with a wooden spoon, and then brought the ladle down to me. In the vision, I opened my mouth... but right before the food hit my lips, the memory vanished. "Some woman," I said. "Feeding me."

"What did she look like?"

"I never saw her face. Black curls. Pale. Brown eyes, tall, thin." I rattled off descriptors so I wouldn't forget them as the memory quickly faded.

"Sounds like you, if you grew your hair out."

I looked at Jaqueline in the fading light, puzzled.

"What?" She reached over and mussed my shorn hair. "I can tell by the waves, even though it's short. If you grew it out, you'd have curls." She laughed. "Plus, you're pretty pale, too." The implications seemed to hit her, then, and she inhaled sharply. "Skinny, what if that's, like, your sister, or, oh, your mom, or something?"

My eyes widened as another memory took me over.