alone together

II

'And I can only trust myself. I can only trust my godly judgment to please my desires.'

Morning trips were never that long, half an hour at most. Most things he needed were provided by his own mind and ability. Solar panals (which he used when needed), and clean water for bathing and drinking. Even communication and conversations were played out in his head. Poe often caught himself mumbling responses but never the less it was still interaction.

Everything he needed was provided by himself, and his own knowledge. From resources in his reach. Books. They seemed to fill his inspiration, motivation, and knowledge from each one he picked up. The ones he seemed to enjoy most were dystopian. They were most similar to his own. It was a fitting term, yes, but the 'dystopian' life was all he knew. And Poe seemed to be doing just fine. There had been memories of where Poe read of books set in rushed yet boring lives. So many people apart from the leading character, it seemed almost overwhelming to imagine that situation in his own head. Where was the escapism? The self lead compass? The idea of relaying only on one's self. The concept was alienated to the male but it was fiction after all.

Those books were always left in single standing shops, so many of them seemed to follow that same trope time and time again. Yet with each new book he found from new stores or new shelves he discovered: that these books were placed there in wait of Poe to find them.

He assumed that's how everything in his town worked. Abandoned, waiting for Poe to discover it. That was his logic. He knew nothing more than his town, he never even seemed to adventure its borders or beyond. There was no need to. It was his territory after all. Why leave the comfort of his own home.

Poe came upon his first shop, a little store with a big, run-down sign spelling 'Saves n' Go!'. The structure was slowly crumbling like most of his town. Bricks and cinder blocks overtook by lush green vines. The store itself was small, no bigger than his own house. He always seemed to check storage, skipping the isles in the front. The front isles were mostly empty or the food was spoiled. Yet in the back, the food was in large portions. Sure some was spoiled but most canned goods were just fine.

Poe was soon making his way back with enough supplies for the next few days. His bag heavy weighing on his back; causing his movements to be a bit sluggish, his pace no longer hastened. As he came upon his own house Poe noticed that his neighbor had returned back inside. Yet he left his window open. This wouldn't have been something he would have batted his eyes twice at- that was if he didn't hear such strange noises coming from inside his house.

There was the sound of a human voice, he was sure of that, but along with it was also strange noises. No noise that a human could produce as far as he knew. They followed along with the human's voice mixing in harmony. Poe couldn't help but be drawn near closer to the sound. When he arrived to the edge of the window sill Poe got full view of the other's living room. It similar to his own in basic design. Yet there were so many differences. Much brighter walls and furniture. His walls made Poe's look bare with all the framed pictures of colorful paintings. It was rare for Poe to see so much color in one place.

He couldn't help but enjoy the odd noise. It was enough to attract his curiosity and search for the source.

"What are you doing?" Asked a deep voice. The person spoke flatly, though it was surprising none the less. Emerging from the near hall was the owner of the house. The same male from this morning. Pacing over to the other side of the window sill.
Poe gnawed his bottom lip, mirroring the same sharp gaze the taller male had. Waiting patiently for a response. Poe's mind on some kind of lag. It was rare for him to hear any voice other than his own.

"Uh- there just seemed to be an odd sound coming from your home. And the window was open so I got curious." While his reasoning sounded solid in his mind, Poe's voice came out no louder than a mumble. He had never spoken to this man outside his own mind.

The man's eyebrows slightly rose. "You mean the music?"
"Music?"
"Yeah? Have you never heard music?"
"Of course I have!" Poe replied sharply. "I've just never heard it- well I've heard it. More so I've read about it. Never heard it with my own ears."
The other's eyebrows now furrowed with a look of confusion. "How could you have never heard music?" he asked. He didn't seem to believe the other's reasoning.
"I just haven't. Why is that such a big deal?"
"Because it's common the hear music, or at least it should be." The male paused as a small, cocky smirk curved over his lips. "You know you could have asked to come in. I would have welcomed you. Seeing as how we've never really talked."
Poe batted his eyes with a blank slate of a stare. "Why would I want to come inside? I don't know you."
The other's expression was becoming more similar to that of a lost child. Poe could see the gears turning in his head. "So you've never heard music? Never actually listened to it?"
"No. That's what I've been trying to explain" Poe reiterated sternly. His annoyance with the repeated question was starting to shine through, understandably of course. In any other case, Poe would have walked away by now. But this wasn't normal for them. They never even held eye contact for more than a few seconds let alone have a full conversation. "And why is it such an important matter?"
"Well because lots of people listen to music. Can't name a person who couldn't?"

Poe's brows furrowed. How many people listened to music? One out of two. That's all the people that were in his town after all. He was more than sure of that.

"I guess I should help you then." The male quickly paced to the door and loosely grabbed Poe by the wrist leading him inside.

Poe had the urge to snatch his hand away. Feeling the other's cold and almost clammy hands having grasp of his own was such a new feeling. He wasn't even sure if he was fully okay with it. But, yet he didn't. He didn't want to admit it at this time but he was ecstatic to finally have a conversation with the stranger. He just never had a great conversation starter. But he was sure that he was a good conversationalist. With how conversations that played out in his head he was sure this would be similar to just that.