Next Stop: Everywhere

I don't know what I was thinking. But I knew I had to do it. With a trembling hand, I knocked on her door. The silence was deafening; I almost turned and ran. But before I could, the door swung open, and her eyes became the size of dinner plates. I cleared my throat as swiftly as possible. "Hey...could I talk to you?" A huge grin spread across her face. "Absolutely! What's up?" I sighed in relief, not having realised before that I'd been holding my breath. "Rad," I said with the slightest of smiles. "Alright. Well." I told her how I'd been cleaning when I stumbled across her letter. Her smile faltered. I explained how hard those tiny words at the end had struck me. "It made me realise...I owe you an apology." Her head tilted curiously. "That last conversation was a painful one for me. But...I forgive you for that. And I would like to ask you to forgive me as well." Her hands went to her mouth. I winced. ...

With shaky hands, I withdrew the page from the envelope. It had been almost a year and a half since the night I'd received it. Slowly, I unfolded it, my eyes absorbing the deliberate writing inside. Even after all this time, all the emotion and pain I'd felt the first time reading it came pouring back. It felt like I was sinking in a pit of quicksand, and my chest tightened as I fought back tears. I didn't even want to finish reading it. Almost ready to shove it back into the envelope, I froze as my eyes caught the tiny scrawled words towards the end. I don't think you need to fear ever losing value in my sight. It's okay if I do in yours. I hope you'll forgive me. I laid the paper down and leaned my head back, a sigh rattling from my throat to the heavens. I remembered the last conversation we'd ever had—the anger that burned within me as I told her, "Feel free to text me if you ever decide to grow a heart." How could I say that to someone I.....

I jumped to my feet, staring with panicked eyes at the arthropod on the ground beside me. It crawled toward me on its eight quick little legs, and I backed up. “Stop!” I demanded. It ignored me and continued approaching. “I...I will kill you!” I assured it with a shaky voice. Seeing that it had no intention of obeying my orders, I knew that I had to strike. I lifted my staff into the air and slammed the butt end directly on top of the small bug, crushing it where it stood with a sickening crunch . I winced, looking away and smearing the stick across the ground. “I warned you,” I murmured. I sat back down and breathed a quivering sigh. “I need to get over this.” I looked around, then back at the smear that had been threatening me only moments ago. I forced my eyes to stay on it. Though small and despised, it was still a life that I had taken. The only acceptable reason to kill, I knew, was in an act of war. Slowly, I stood to my feet once more. “...Spiders! I...I can't ...

“Johnson? Yeah, I know him.” The man took a swig from his gourd and slammed it down on the counter. I fidgeted slightly in my seat. “What can you tell me about him?” “For starters, don't think that just ‘cause he's blind don't mean he can't see.” I tilted my head questioningly. “He uses the echo from his gunshots to hear where you are. Or...some crap like that.” I nodded. “I see.” That would explain how he'd been able to put a bullet between my legs when no one else would have detected my presence at all. “What about his gun? Is it enchanted?” The man laughed. “Enchanted? The hell would he need to enchant it for?” “He never misses,” I answered grimly. He leaned forward, giving me a look that said I was an idiot. “And you assume magic’s to blame for that?” “I assumed it would be possible,” I answered, no longer feeling as confident in my question. ...

A grim smile crossed his thin lips. It was highly unsettling, given the blindfold tied around his eyes. Could he see me? I thought he was blind, but it wouldn't be the first time I'd made an incorrect assumption about somebody. Slowly, he reached up with his left hand and pinched the brim of his stetson. “Howdy-doo, pardner,” he said with a rough voice. I gulped. I think he knew I was there. “Why don't you come on out into the light and we can get this here show on the road?” I didn't move. Maybe he was bluffing. Before I could finish that thought, a bullet hit the ground less than a foot away from me, the thunderclap from the discharge rattling inside my ears. “Come on, now, don't be shy.” Slowly, I stepped out into the middle of the street. “Who are you?” “The name’s Johnson,” he answered smoothly. “Diode Johnson.” So it really was him. “I do believe it's polite to tell me yours in return.” ...

“I'm gonna do it.” I looked over at him. “You should,” I said, the corners of my lips pulling upward. I leaned to the other side. “He's gonna do it.” She nodded, leaning my way. “Do it.” He stood up and removed his coat. I looked at her and beamed. This was a day to remember. He walked straight ahead and disappeared around a corner. We stood and approached the small pool, waiting. A long list of people came and went before, finally, there he was. The pastor took his hand. “I baptise you in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.” Under he went, and back up he came. He threw his drenched arms around the pastor and disappeared behind the corner once more. A few minutes later, he came back the way he'd gone, still damp, and he flung his arms around me. “God is good,” I said. He laughed. “All the time.” “And all the time?” “God is good.”