Work Text:
The smoke was gone, and the sun had shown its whole ugly face, rather than peering into the world with just one eye. Droplets of blood from the ocean and beneath the ground started raining up, bringing red into the dull grey sky. The bodies strewn across the ocean floor could be seen as the sea shrunk away, and the roots entangling the ocean’s bodies slowly crept towards the island bay.
Most went inside. Froggy, being amphibious, didn’t mind. Coral Glasses produced a small umbrella from her suit jacket, laid it across the ground, and stood on it, protecting her from the rising rain. ENA was frozen in fear, staring into the distance, witnessing what she had uncovered; blood ran up her body, whispering figments of memories of long-dead dreams of pain.
It was Coral Glasses’ voice that finally broke ENA out of her trance.
“Uh… the weather. It’s rather unpleasant today, isn’t it?”
ENA snapped back, “It’s not my fault! I’m just doing my stupid job! You, of all people, should know this!”
Coral Glasses looked away, sweating bullets. “No. No it’s not that. I’m sorry. It’s just…”
Silence stretched on as they gazed upon the ocean shrinking before them. Brightly lit vomit-green comets struck the sea, and the bodies beneath sank underground to flee.
“I just wanted you to get on my umbrella.” Coral Glasses muttered.
ENA did so, but didn’t say a word.
The up-rain stopped; the seafloor had been drained dry. Coral Glasses brought her umbrella above the two of them, as down-rain now began, as the sun started to cry.
“I thought you hated me.” ENA said. It wasn’t clear which half was speaking, or perhaps it was both.
“I never hated you.” Coral Glasses answered.
Acid fell upon the sea’s bodies and branches, leaving it salty, dry, and withered. Creatures and beasts came towards the feast from due east: hands, unicorns, and small lizards.
Coral Glasses continued, “You’re just outgoing, and I never knew how to handle that. I like you, actually.”
A flock of bees, birds, and bats joined in the meal from due south. The ground trembled, buildings coming disassembled, as the sun opened its voracious mouth.
“Well, it looks like my work is calling for me,” ENA, the salesperson, replied, “but I like you too. Maybe we can do something together, if we ever see each other again.”
“ENA, if the offer still stands,” Coral Glasses lowered her voice to a near-whisper, clearly embarrassed “I’d like to see you turn around and roll your window down… or we could shake hands.”