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A Letter to the Wind

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We kissed for the first time in a broken down star destroyer. That’s what we called them, no one had any idea what the invaders called anything. It was a game we played, here at the edge of death and boredom. Poking aroung in their areas, daring each other to go always a step further. My group of friends might have told ourselves that we did it to gain information, or to sabotage. But we all knew there was no point. It was just something to do while we waited for the world to end.

I had met him a few weeks before, in a party, or what passed for one these days. He lived in Habitat 9, next to mine. I don’t understand why the invaders use numbers when they don’t appear to communicate in any way, but I guess it’s just another mystery we’ll never solve. Anyway, it was easier for us to use the numbers than to pretend we still had actual cities and boroughs and stuff.

We hit it off right away, and soon we hung out almost every day. Eventually I took him exploring with me, there weren't that many things to do on a date any more. He was a natural, with just the right mix of recklessness and caution. He urged me on when I would have stopped, but he also once saved me from something horrible oozing out of a wall that I’d just meant to lean against. When he pointed it out, I could see how the grass hissed and melted when the gunk touched it.

They feed us to the machines, you know. They run on humans, or something like that. They are very efficient, so we believe it will take quite a long while for them to run out of fuel. Small comforts, and all that. I guess you could say our explorations weren’t completely wasted, as my boyfriend did learn enough about the mechanics to figure that out, when he went inside one.

He must be dead now. That’s why I’m writing this. He didn’t show up at our usual meeting place when he was supposed to. And the last time he kissed me it felt like goodbye. Maybe we really are better off not knowing about some things.

I just wanted people to see that you can still find something good, even now, even here. I could never regret meeting him, but I do regret letting him go inside. I regret losing him, almost as much as I regret losing this world.

 

To anyone who might be reading this: My name is Annika and I miss him.