A MAN WITH NO HOME
Tell me, sweet stranger, do you know the story of Normant Lumensky, the man from a mystical land universes away from Earth? Making an ark out of his chains, he turns from a prisoner of war into a fugitive.
A WOMAN AGAINST THE WOR...
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THERE HE WAS.
Standing in front of me, alive and burning, was Josh—the man with the love for poetry, all things beautiful and . . . me. He was there, only a few breaths away from me, with his curly brown hair and those big gray eyes that had always reminded me of dark clouds and smoke. The full moon was high, we were alone in the middle of nowhere and it felt like all my prayers had finally been answered. Could this be true? Could the skies have finally cleared?
I reached for him, fingers trembling as I touched his cheek, but what if this was just another dream of mine and he was not real? What if the moment I touched him, he dissolved in thin air and I was left longing for a shadow? What if he had forgotten about me and had moved on with his life? What if he stepped back, rejecting my affection? What if—
Nothing like that happened. My hand cupped his cheek and he looked up at me, smiling. All at once everything was good and right. All at once there was nothing to fear and the world was good just because it had created him—its greatest masterpiece. There was only Josh—the man with the countless tales—and I—the man with the countless aches.
I stepped closer to him, savoring the way his scent blended in with the crisp air. "You're here," I whispered.
We were so close that I could practically feel his heart beating against mine. No form of art was more important, more necessary, than that.
"You're here," I repeated as he twined his arms around my back.
I gave in to the moment, surrendered to his presence, and let go of every horror and trouble of the past.
But they did not let go of me.
"No." Another voice replied, and Josh leaned away as if frightened. "No, he's not here."
A voice I knew all too well.
Amanda's voice.
I turned to Josh, wishing to gaze at his face again, but all my fears became real, and he was not there. I looked around me. He was not beside me. He was not behind me. He was not here. He was gone. He—
I did not move. I did not scream. I even blinked the tears away as I found Amanda standing a few feet away from me, her auburn hair swaying in the wind. In the absolute darkness, she looked lethal, as if she was the only one who could defeat the night. I wished that was not true. I wish I had the will to fight back. But what was the use in fighting when defeat was a certainty? Just for the thrill of it, Normant would say, just for the anarchy.
She crossed the distance between us, and only when did she come so close to me that I could feel her breath on my neck I realized that her eyes glowed almost orange and they twitched, driven by pure hatred. I flinched.
"Long time no see, Jersen," she said and lay a hand on my back.
I refused to look at her, so I tried to focus on the moon and the few stars twinkling around it. It did not help. Her chuckle pierced through my armor and had my heart racing with anger and fear, both of them combined in one poisonous potion.
