I must have died a long time ago, because no one's phones have buttons anymore.
My old Nokia is still running, but even up here I get no bars, and Snake is getting old.
When the sun sets there's a flash of green and a portal opens up, three stories high, a great cross of comet green flames in a nearby field. Occasionally I see translucent white shapes drift into it, like dust motes into a vacuum.
Each sunset the portal opens and then shrinks in size and intensity as the stars come out.
Each night I feel a pull, but I don't let go.
Each year it gets stronger, and that door gets thinner.
I can almost hear that party on the other side.
Author notes
This was sort of about the vibe I felt walking home, 40 minutes in the dark for my first job.
Lots of bush and few people. Between two hills there was a stretch where the lamposts were often blown out and I had to walk through this pitch black valley. Once, as I was walking through, I saw huge amounts of yellow fairy lights, so the bush must have been the entrance to some sort of eyes wide shut mansion. I intended to investigate when I saw the lights again, but I never did.
It was this vibe from the past, combining with my current state of being on the cusp of becoming a dad, and surrendering my old life to the void, that led to the inspiration for this piece.
