From: <mirandamanda@lucidity.gn>
To: <lightguardian@ins.gn>
Subject: Back!
Hey! I’m back from my trip to the States. I met up with my friend Haley in New York and had an awesome time. She showed me all the sights and treated me to some of the best food ever. Have you been there? If not, you have to go at least once. It was great. After two weeks, though, I sure was ready to get back home.
Sorry I haven’t mailed you in a while. I was so busy. I’ll send you some pics from the trip soon. Well, my mom’s making some of her awesome dongpo pork so I’ll have to talk to you later.
Miranda
“I see you’ve got a friend you haven’t told me about,” Marcos said, smiling.
“I meant what I said before,” Caleb insisted, “I don’t know anyone named Miranda.”
“Well, she seems to know you pretty well.”
“She must’ve mailed it to the wrong address or something. You know who I know.”
“It’s alright, man. No need to deny it. It’s been over a week since you guys broke up. It’s only natural to move on.”
Caleb stood with a sigh and walked over to his window. “It’s not bothering me. I mean, it’s not even that big of a deal.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. You’re a young man. Don’t let the ladies shackle you. That’s my motto.”
Outside, a plane passed in the sky, trailing thin white.
“Hey, what’s lucidity?” Marcos asked.
“Clarity,” he answered. “Just check the definition.”
“I know what the word means, dummy. I mean lucidity.gn, the database your friend mailed you from. Never heard of it before.”
“Oh.” Caleb turned back to his friend. “Neither have I. And she’s not my friend.”
“One sec. I’m running a search on it.” Marcos typed furiously and silently on the holographic keys.
Caleb left the window and retook his place in his chair behind Marcos, who was still kneeling on the floor in front of the bed. The view on the notebook’s screen changed from the INS search engine to complete black. Both of them stayed silent, waiting. After a moment, a message drifted into view, as if through a thick fog.
Can you see?
It faded into nothingness. Another slowly appeared.
Do you hear?
The two phrases kept appearing, one after another, in the same way, as if finally finding their way from the darkness into a shred of light, but, in the end, being too weak to hold onto their tangibility.
“How lame,” Marcos said.
“I think it’s kind of cool.”
“I’ve seen better. Just some loser’s attempt at being deep.” Marcos arched his back with a groan. “Hey, do you have another chair or something? Kneeling like this is killing me.”
“Yeah,” Caleb replied, motioning to the door without taking his eyes off of the screen. “Just ask my mom.”
“‘K. Be right back.” Marcos got up and left the room.
