"I'm sick."
The man paused, a flamed cigarette centimetres away from his mouth. He had left the cacophony of his house for some fresh air, not expecting a stranger to join him.
"I haven't been told how much time I have left," the stranger continued as she let out a deep breath, "but with the way everyone's acting around me, I can tell it's sooner than I had thought."
She hadn't meant for these words to come out. Not even to her loved ones had she been this bold, but speaking to a random person seemed way easier than confiding in a friend. And so she spilt her heart's content on the sidewalk, waiting for someone to aimlessly pick it up.
"I do think I've come to terms with it," she admits, words leaking like an old tale begging to be told. "I've always known I wouldn't live long, weirdly. But I think I'm the only one who has given up on trying to steer what fate has deemed unalterable."
The man turned, fully watching her now. Her face was wrinkle-free, truly seeming unbothered. There was something so fascinating about her and the way her eyes were filled with longing as she admired the night sky above. How ironic it was, watching her breathe life into every sigh as if she wasn't simultaneously surrounded by a gossamer of death. Her movements were so delicate, and her presence so calming that she inspired poetry itself, her beauty only describable through idyllists and bards.
"I've always wanted to be an astronaut ever since I was young, so what's better than joining the stars now that I've finally grown?"
Not waiting for a response, she got up from the small bench they were previously on and patted the random man's arm gently- as if to thank him for simply existing at the right place and time- and was gone in the blink of an eye, whisked by the wind and clouds as she explores this universe before entering another one.
The man's eyes never left her figure as she walked into the seemingly endless darkness, disappearing as if she hadn't even existed to begin with.
Nothing had ever felt real to her anyway.
