An Unlikely World by Maxwell Blue
The first whiff of it and I wanted to gasp. I found myself pushed against the restraints that were binding me in one place. In my compressed space the air was putrid like rotten eggs and mixed with a massive collection of bad dreams which made me want to puke. The odor showed no signs dissipating. I couldn’t remember where I was. My favorite Uncle told me once about his memories. He told me they were slippery little things to hold on to. I thought about that while I sat there not knowing who I was or what had happened to me.
Just bits and fragments cleared up in my mind, knocking loose the cobwebs in my head. Faces of my past, like my hokey Uncle, appeared to me like ghostly projections out of the corners of my eyes and their distant voices, frighten me, but at the same time I was drawn in closer, seamlessly connected, only I was awkwardly phrased out in a moment of my own existence.
Sure I smoked weed back in High School like everyone else, but this stuff I am on now felt like I was on some kind of wonderful hallucinogen. It was like a bad foreign film that my girlfriend use to take me to; my girlfriend? I had I girlfriend! Her name was Emily. The very sweetness of her name momentarily made me forget the stench in the air. But at least I could remember Emily.
There was a painful tingling sensation that buzzed and throbbed from the back of my skull like a hive of bumble bees, it stung and ached like crazy. I didn’t know why I didn’t sense this before. It was like my body was waking up from something tragic. I rubbed my scalp as if I was searching for an opening and produced a plastic cap with wires attached to it. Someone had electrified my brain, but for what reason I could not distinguish.
I wanted to get up that moment, only I couldn’t. I believed I was trapped, I feared this was so, instead I laid there motionless and continued to suffer. My thoughts continued to consume me. I imaged I was forced down into an oubliette, with no hope of escape until slowly everything that was locked in me clicked back into place, everything that is except my name. I guessed that I would have to go on being nameless for now. This didn’t really matter. From my vantage point there no one else was around.
It looked to me to be some kind of huge laboratory, smooth white walls with chipped paint and Formica countertops with thick layers of dust and debris. I saw a whole line of pods, each the size of a coffin, in front of me and to my left and right. They all looked empty. I wondered if I was the only one that was left behind. I remembered that these were life extension pods. It was a miracle that I could see at all, because it appeared the whole complex lost power years ago. If not for the erosion in the ceiling above me letting in a sliver of sunlight I would be in complete darkness now.
Recalling that I was in the Zeidler Cryonics Lab in North Scottsdale Arizona did no good if I couldn’t get out of my pod and find some way to survive. I remembered being placed into a life extension capsule, the pieces were coming together, it was like yesterday when I was explained to me that sulfur was part of the stasis process and the electrodes attached to my head were needed to stimulate my brain, reversing any atrophy, which could be deadly or life debilitating.
The process was experimental, completely theoretical when I signed on the dotted line, virtually signing my life away. I did it because it was my only chance at the time—to save my life. My condition was at a breaking point, current day medicine had failed me, I suffered from the most aggressive form of pancreatic cancer—a death sentence and cryogenics was my only lifeline.
Looking around the capsule I realized that my situation was very much like being born again; completely naked and covered in darkness, like I had been in my mother’s womb. Dust covered everything and my face plate was slightly smudged. I struggled once more to open the hatch until my strength gave out. My arms were insufficient for the task; it was like I was using toothpicks to pry open a manhole cover. I figured that that was probably due to the fact that his last meal was a steak dinner with Emily, she was my fiancée, I remember it succinctly now, as it happening three days ago—at least that is what it felt like to me. I had no difficulty remembering the restaurant; Mastropietro. It was our favorite Italian steak house. I remembered my filet mignon and steamed broccoli as fondly as the memory of Emily in her blue and white floral print dress. Emily wore her dark brown hair short that night; she knew I loved her hair styled that way, above her ears. Around her elegant neck she wore a modest gold cross, the one her dear grandmother gave her on her sweet sixteenth birthday. She was always very religious. Sometimes she went to church twice a week. She attempted to change my belief system, only I was a tried and true atheist.
I would go to church with her about a dozen times a year, always to please her, especially on the major holidays like Easter and Christmas. She was a devout Roman Catholic, yet she would generally support other religions too, not the endless horrors their people committed, just the blessed intentions of their holy book, but even in this she would tease me about my lack of faith. I took it in stride. She would say, “You don’t believe in anything, do you.” But she was wrong. I believed in her very much so.
After the dinner at Mastropietro I had to be on a liquid diet for two days before I could be placed under stasis. I dreaded that. Emily had been known to fast for health reason, but every time she got me to do it I felt ill. Her fasting caused friction between us because when Emily had a big lunch she wanted to skip dinner. Maybe skip the whole next day of meals too. I just couldn’t plan my week around that, not knowing if or when she didn’t plan to eat. At that time it felt like Mastropietro would have been our last meal together; maybe it was. I had visions of that famous painting by Leonardo da Vinci, The Last Supper.
I worried some more about getting out of my capsule and was at least able to remove some Velcro stripes holding my back flat against my pod, only the capsule seemed to be locked from the outside and as much as I tried I could get it open. Desperately I pounded on the face plate once more waiting and hoping that someone might hear me. It was painfully silence, like being in the void of space; cold and lonely, like drifting in a lifeboat with no destination. I thought that this pod might be my tomb and in a thousand years someone might dig me out of it and put me in a museum of all those who had foolish hopes and dreams, if by any chance museums still existed.
Then the capsule opened and I was freed. “Thank you, God”.
Somehow I thought I would see a scientist or some kind of doctor, maybe they had realized they left me behind, like in that Christian book that Emily use to me to read. I questioned my lack of my faith this time, but instead of someone in a lab coat it was a large Amazonian woman wearing a green two piece swimsuit. She spoke to me, only I couldn’t understand her. It sounded like Spanish. I spoke Spanish, only not that well. It came in handy working in the medical field in Arizona with so many illegals crossing over the border. I lifted one bare leg and then the other over the opening of the capsule and stumbled to my feet, I was able to stand in front of her for a fledging moment and then I lost the feeling in both my legs, but she was able to catch me before I fell onto the cement floor.
“Thanks,” I said
She looked down at me. I bent over catching my breath and said nothing more. I could see that this Amazonian woman stood over six feet tall. Her face was lightly tanned and she had so many muscles that she put my puny body to shame. I watched how this woman carried her weight in a pair of sturdy sandals, balancing herself on the balls of her feet like she was going to spring into action. Her blue eyes beamed brilliantly down at me. I waved her a friendly hello. I didn’t know how to greet her because I still couldn’t remember my name.
She placed her right hand on my chest and said, “Mi am Virga”
“I take it you don’t work here?” I laughed.
Virga just smiled at me. She clearly didn’t understand.
“Hablas espanol?” I asked
“Ne” Virga said as she shook her head side to side.
No dice I thought. I was flummoxed. I couldn’t understand how someone living in Arizona would not understand English or Spanish. After a long moment I remembered that there was a language that was in between both English and Spanish. It was called Esperanto, but no one really spoke it in Arizona before I was cryogenically frozen.
I began searching for the one thing that could help him communicate with Virga. I realized that there was a good chance it might not be here. I could only guess to the number of years I had been out of commission. The surfaces of the room were cleaned off of everything but neglect. Dust was everywhere, but I saw on my capsule there was a biometric switch.
The switch was at the base of the capsule. I wiped off the thick layer of grime covering a small touch screen. When I positioned my right thumb over the screen it lit up and a drawer clicked open with a little pop. Inside was a case marked: Nikki Zizzo. Was that my name? I still couldn’t remember. It must be. Inside the case was a silver laptop. This was no ordinary computer. It was a quantum computer. It could access any website, even if the internet was no longer in existence, it operated on a system of entanglements that I didn’t understand. Emily’s friend Simon Roberts, a brilliant physicist she worked with, had given me this computer. Simon told me it linked particles together so no matter how far those particles were in time and space they would still be linked together. I powered up the computer. Simon had placed special batteries into the computer—nuclear powered half-life batteries. Maybe they still worked. While the operating system loaded and I thought of running an internet search for the word: Esperanto. If Simon was correct it should not matter how long the internet servers have been down and if the condition of this facility was a reflection of the outside world that might be the case. I opened the browser and typed the word into the search window and with great relief found everything was working perfectly. I was able to get to a website with an English to Esperanto translator in a manner of seconds.
“Do you understand me now?” was the query I typed into the dialogue box on the website. The computer speaker relayed the message to Virga in Esperanto.
“Jes” Virga said with a smile and a nod of her head.
The computer’s microphone picked up what Virga said and translated it to: “Yes”. I was encouraged by this breakthrough. Using the computer once again I asked Virga if she could get me some clothes. I didn’t bother explaining to Virga that I felt very shy and exposed in my present state. I didn’t like this very uneasy feeling of being in this wide open space without a stitch of fabric on. Virga’s face looked as though it was washed in concern and after a long moment she said, “Veni”.
The computer translated what Virga had said and displayed the word “Come” on the screen. I followed Virga out the Zeidler facility. The debris on the cold floor was hard on my bare feet. I tried my best to avoid the glass and splintered wood from the collapsed desks and broken cubicles partitions. I noticed that some of the work stations were frozen in time as though waiting for absent employees to come back to them while other work stations were smash with abandon. I was intrigued by the zigzag path that we were on. I could tell that Virga knew her way around this place and got a funny idea. Had Virga ruptured my capsule on purpose? How could she know of my predicament? I just had to know so he got Virga’s attention and typed my question into the computer.
“Arbo” Virga said.
“Tree” the computer translated.
“Is this Arbo a person?” I typed
Virga replied and the computer translated: “Tree is tree.”
I didn’t know what to make of this so I let the question rest until later. I placed the computer back into its case and swung the satchel over my shoulder and continued to follow Virga once again because Virga had started to move on without me. I jogged for a bit to catch up. The effort made me feel weak and I struggled to keep up the pace. When I saw Virga under an exit sign I became hopeful until I discovered it had been barricaded with a collapsed metal beams with large sections that looked like they had fallen from the ceiling. Black scorch marks lined the walls and electric wires cascaded over the massive mess. I thought it was doubtful that there was any wattage in those lines, but that didn’t make the sight look any less dangerous. This was just another sign that Zeidler Labs had been dead for years. Virga turned away from the blockage and walked down another long hallway that eventually led to an opening inside a brick wall that empted outside into the parking lot.
The fresh air and sunlight instantly put me in a better mood. The sun was high in the sky and the cloud formations were light. I wondered what time of year it was.
There were several fancy cars parked there, makes and models that I had never seen before. I walked over to the most stylish vehicle, a faded blue two door sports car, and tried to open its driver side door out of curiosity. I was not surprise the car door was locked. Whoever abandoned these cars must have done so ages ago. After a couple of minutes of trying to look into the car’s interior I turned away with some more questions for Virga and forgot I needed the computer which I had powered down and packed away. I took a quick look over my shoulders and found Virga was gone. A feeling of panic can over me. I was naked and alone and clearly out of my time. And I was incredibly hungry too.
“Veni.” Virga called out from a neighboring hillside as she waved her hands over her head. Virga must have realized I was no longer behind her and she and had come back for me.
I was grateful not to be left behind again and I followed Virga up the hill. When I reached the top I could see the freeway. Empty. As far as the eye could see in both directions there was no one about, not one thing there, not even a traffic cone. I wondered where everyone went. Virga didn’t stop walking. Whatever happened here must be old news to her. I thought it was better to hold my questions until later.
As we walked I noticed that the ground was very lush. This was supposed to be a semi-harsh desert environment, but the grass cushioned my bare feet as if I was walking in heaven, and somehow transported into a fantasy. There was definitely a lot more humidity in the air than I remember. At first I thought we happened onto a very large golf course, but I realized that was nonsense. Not only that, there appeared to be no signs of cacti or any other desert plants. Somehow the climate had completely changed and Arizona had become a very tropical habitat, vividly so, immensely green as far as my eyes could see.
After a several miles of walking we came across a man in the field wearing an outfit similar to the outfit that Virga had on. Virga greeted him, only I couldn’t understand a word they were saying, except for the work “Arbo”. Virga pointed me out to the man and he walked over to greet me like I was something special and I suppose I was. Yet my modesty overwhelmed over me and I tried to cover my breasts with the satchel around my shoulder and to my embarrassment I realized that I was still half-naked. I felt like I was a model in a figure painting class.
The man towered over me. He must have been at least a foot taller than Virga. I must of looked striking with my bare chest and all. I wanted to know what he was thinking, but I didn’t dare remove the satchel between of us. I didn’t know what looked more unusual to him, my nakedness or my diminutive size. I wondered if he had a thing for petite women. The man placed his large muscular hand on my shoulder. Maybe he was welcoming me to the tribe. I think this could be considered a form of sexual harassment. I will have to talk to the human resources about this behavior when I get home because I usually feel uncomfortable with this type of physical contact without my consent. It certainly doesn’t help that I’m utterly naked. I told him, “Arbo”, hoping he moved on, taking his creepy stare with him, along with his hand that was pressed against me with an undesirable amount of passion. I perceived that he was looking down my satchel. He appeared to be curious, a little too curious for my comfort.
I also found his smile menacing, but Virga looked happy to see this grabby guy. I didn’t know what to say and was still holding the satchel like a shield. The man repeated, “Arbo.” Then he finally removed his hand from my shoulder.
Arbo meant tree that much I knew, I turned to Virga to gauge her reaction. Virga was astutely focused on the horizon and without saying anything she moved forward again. I focused on the path ahead and tolerated the pain in my legs from relentless walking, yet my exhaustion was too great and I fell to the verdant fields with a soft thud.
I was flat on the ground with my backside in the air. The ground was extremely soft and moist, clinging to me almost fervently like I was having a sexually experience with the earth. I quickly fell asleep, a restfulness that I never known before. My energy reserves were being restored. I was completely at peace. I felt like I was out for days, but it was only as long as it took Virga to circle around and get me. She lifted me over her head buttocks first and all my blood rushed down to my head. I got a good look at the ground as my chest bounced upon Virga’s swimsuit as she walked. It was as if I weighed nothing, she took one giant stride after another.
After several minutes more on top of Virga’s shoulder the grounds became lusher and the scenery was occupied with tribespeople dressed in the same leafy green clothing. With so many people around I became even more self-conscience of my nakedness when the tribespeople starting turning into a large number of tribesmen. Their interests certainly peaked with something new and here I was on display. I couldn’t use the satchel to cover myself up because I was still hanging from Virga. My front was covered on Virga’s chest, but my whole backside was on display like I was a striper hanging from a pole entertaining an eager audience. I hoped that these tribesmen understood striper etiquette. Strippers were supposed to be treated like butterflies. They can touch you, which I wasn’t planning to do, but you can’t touch them. The tribesmen didn’t end up touching me, yet all of them were getting an eyeful.
I used the laptop case to cover myself up but strangely no one paid that much attention to me in the end. One member of the tribe came up to me, but didn’t stare. She was a very attractive brunette, beautifully sculpted like a Greek statue. I wasn’t thinking of Emily anymore, though they both had the same hair color, refreshingly this women wore her hair down past her shoulders. I thought I preferred women with their hair cut short. I didn’t feel that way anymore.
Since I could not speak her language I just stood there taking in her shapely figure. The leafy green swimsuit hugged her body extremely well. Virga put me down in front of her like I was a matchbox-sized figurine. Now there was only my laptop that separated this strange girl from me. I started to get goosebumps.
“Mia filino.” Virga said gesturing towards the woman.
I wondered how this woman was related to Virga. I was tempted to use the laptop to find out who she was, but I thought that that could wait. Opening up the case I pulled the laptop out and turned it on. It was easy to find the Esperanto website since I had bookmarked the page. In the dialogue box I typed, “I need some clothes.”
The computer’s speakers relayed the message to Virga and to this strange woman I had looked on with wonderment. When the computer had spoken; Virga appeared bemused and her smaller companion’s laugh delighted me like nothing else I experienced that day.
“Arbo.” Virga said pointing over at another hillside walking there with her large strides. The younger women nodded in agreement and then walked over to my laptop as if it would speak again. When it did not the younger woman looked at me and smiled, ever so sweetly. She might light my soul I thought, yet that will simply not be enough. I am a dying woman and no paradise; no matter how blissful will save me. I need nothing less than Eden. Without an advance cure my cancer will kill me within a month’s time, but it might be a pleasant death in this nowhere land.
I was tired beyond belief, but I still had the wherewithal to investigate the reason why everyone was talking about some tree, I gathered up my computer and walked over the hillside and the younger woman followed me like a puppy. On the other side I saw dozens of Virga’s people surrounding a humongous tree. The diameter of the tree must have been at least fifty feet and looked to be over three hundred feet tall. I had to scan the familiar mountain ranges again to be sure I was Arizona. With great astonishment I reasoned I couldn’t possibly be in Arizona, but I was. I had never seen a tree like this one before. I have never known of a tree like this before. It was much bigger than a redwood. Not even redwoods have trunks that size.
I walked down to the base of the tree in a trance and this time Virga followed me. Growing on one side of the tree was a large number of green pods. Virga reached for one of the pods, breaking it off first with a snap that shook the limb. Virga then handed me the pod. I had no idea what to do with it, maybe it was something to eat I thought. I was incredibly hungry.
The surface of the pod was very fibrous so I decided to break it open. Inside I saw it was mostly hollow with an oozy substance that felt like cloth. Revealing the innards to the daylight I could see that I was holding the very same green clothing that everyone else was wearing.
I was amazed that somehow Virga and her people were able to grow their clothes.
But I was without a clue as to how to wear this chucky green soup. I just stood there and shrugged my shoulders. The younger woman next to Virga seemed pensive and bewildered. She took the pod from me and started applying the ooze directly to my breasts, it was an unearthly feeling. I got the idea how to do this and took over the job over from her and applied the ooze to the rest of my body, leaving my midriff exposed. Now I looked like every other woman in the tribe, except I was great deal smaller.
I looked over to Virga who seemed pleased with herself; looking on with enjoyment as I walked around getting a feel for the strange clothing. So what if it was grown from a tree, cotton was grown from plants on the ground.
At first the swimsuit was a little baggy. I looked over at Virga and the young woman who helped me put my new clothes on. I examined their outfits and found them form fitting. I wondered why this was so. But as I thought this I felt the clothing tightening up and pulled around my crotch and supporting my breasts, like a boa constrictor.
Getting my laptop out I was determined to get a few answers. I sat Indian style on the carpet-like grass, resting the computer on my lap. Virga took a seat next to me along with the other woman.
I typed the question: “Did you come looking for me?”
Virga nodded her head then spoke. The computer translated, “Arbo told me to find you. Arbo told me where you would be and that I must free you from your metal box because it is time now for you to come witness.”
“Witness what?” I typed.
“Arbo said you will know that when you see it.”
The grimace I made was as wide as a cherry pie and then I sighed in disbelief. “What happened to my people?” I hammered keys in to the computer with a speed I didn’t know I was capable of, desperately determined to find out what was going on.
“We are the Arboni.” Virga said
“What happened to the city people?” I typed.
“They went to the stars.”
“Went into outer space?” I typed and then pointed to the sky.
“To the stars.”
“When did this happen?” I typed, eagerly waiting her reply.
“Before my time.”
“How many years ago was this?” I typed hoping for a real answer.
“I don’t know such things.”
“How old are you?” I typed.
“I don’t know such things”
“Who would know these things?” I typed.
“You must speak to Jacob. Jacob knows everything.”
“Can I speak to this Jacob now?” I typed.
Virga started walking towards the base of the mighty tree in front of them. I quickly followed her. Virga covered great distances in very little time. If I learned anything today I learned that much. I watched as Virga placed her hand flat against the trunk, miraculously the bark receded and revealed an underground passage. Closely I shadowed her into a marvelously illuminate passageway. Somehow the tree was powering internal lights inside the tree’s base. This was a wonder of biomechanics. Before I knew it I was face-to-face with a humanoid robot that spun around when he saw me. It was fastened to a panel in front of a large curved screen that looked as new as the day it was installed probably. Strangely the robot was wearing a suit and looked and talked like a politician trying to sell you a tax plan.
“Greetings,” the android spoke energetically in English, “I am J.A.C.O.B. a judging, articulating, compiling, observing robot of biotechnology.” Jacob announced every syllable calmly and with great care, his voice amplified around the room. I felt like I was standing alone in Broadway play.
This pile of microchips was pretty impressive, far beyond anything I have ever seen. If it couldn’t supply me with the answers I need I don’t know want else could. I started off with an easy question. “How old is Virga? She claims that she doesn’t know because she doesn’t keep track of time.”
“That is the way of the Arboni. They have removed all forms of stress from their lives. They’ve known absolutely no forms of aggression among themselves and I am in communication with a network of countless trees. Together we have eliminated all forms of apprehension from their minds. All the souls of the entire planet Earth, the moon and Mars have been locked in our databanks. Each hub connects each individual to our network. We know everything down to each nucleus of every human’s cell. Nikki Zizzo, you too have been added to our collective. We can determine that you are thirty-five years old and you will be thirty-six next month. The woman that you speak of, Virga, is two hundred and ten years old.”
“Are you saying this is the month of November, Jacob?” I said.
“After the great exodus, we machines were left behind to solve all of humanity’s problems. We stopped the trade winds and stabilized the biospheres. All adverse weather is a thing of the past. Once that was done we built the massive trees that you see today, we have reached the achievement of biotechnology and advance artificial intelligence, which have been combined perfectly.”
“In your vast wisdom do you know I am dying of cancer?” I said.
“We have known of your condition for some time now, Ms. Zizzo,” Jacob said. “There is no chance of you dying now that you have been connected to our network. Within days you will be in the best shape of your life.”
“You must be kidding, just because an extremely hot woman slopped some green ooze on me.” I said.
“That ‘green ooze’ has just saved your life. If you stay among us you might live to be three hundred years old,” Jacob said.
I was in disbelief of the whole matter. How could I live to be three hundred years old? My mother died at eighty-three. This was nonsense and I left in tears. Virga was waiting for me at the entrance of the tree. She saw my tears and carefully wiped them away. Close by was the woman I had a major crush on. If I did anything else today I had to learn her name. I swung the laptop out and I asked Virga about the very attractive woman standing next to her.
Virga presented the woman to me. “This is Calla, she is my daughter.” Virga pushed Calla towards me. “You can have her. She’s not interested in men.”
“Well, Calla, what do you have to say about this.” I typed.
“I respect my mother’s wishes. She tells me you are a great woman. A woman from our cherished songs, who slept for many ages and created a grand awakening,” she looked at me fondly. “It was a fable from my childhood that I begged my mother to repeat it to me often.”
“Calla, my name is Nikki,” I typed.
“Nikki?” Calla questioned with pause.
“Before we continue talking we should eat first.” Virga said.
Another woman carried over what looked like fruit
“Frukto?” Calla said holding an odd shaped bit of produce to me and then broke it up into pieces and showed me it was safe to eat by putting one piece in her mouth and chewing it. A warm trickle of juice ran down her chin and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. I went to reach for a piece myself, but Calla popped a sizeable piece in my mouth, like I was a baby, before I had the chance to grab one. I nearly choked on it before swallowing. The texture was soft and meaty at the same time, only it wasn’t very sweet. It didn’t look like there was anything else to eat so this must be their whole diet. I motioned to Calla if I could have more of the fruit and she feed the rest to me. Between bits of the fruit I looked over to Virga who was enjoying her own piece of fruit. She had a permanent grin on her face while she hummed a friendly tune. It appear that she couldn’t be more pleased with herself; not only had she been able to complete her mission for Arbo, she was able to achieve the contentment of her daughter. For a moment everything made sense to me accepting another piece of fruit from Calla. I didn’t know what had happened to me, not really, but at least I felt safe in her eyes. I got out the laptop again and typed, “You are very beautiful.” And it was true. Calla had an appearance of no women that I have ever seen. She looked like she had to be at least ten years younger than me and at the same time she appeared to be much older. She looked flawless, like she was a super model, but without a touch of makeup, because in all the miles I walked today I didn’t pass by one drugstore.
Calla stopped feeding me and looked at me almost in shock. Maybe she didn’t understand. Perhaps something got lost in the translation? She looked lost and confused, feelings that I could empathize with. Things I have been experiencing from the moment that I woke up in Zeidler Labs.
“Did I upset you?” I typed.
“No.” Calla said. “No one has ever told me this.”
“I find that hard to believe.” I typed. “Your face could inspire a song or a movie.”
“What are these things?” Calla asked.
“Words, pictures and sounds that were once part of my world.” I typed.
“Love?” Calla asked.
“Yes, love and hate as well,” I replied “That is why, I suppose, it’s all gone.”
“It might be gone, Nikki, but it is not forgotten; as long as you remember these things, they will always be with you.”
“Or in my laptop,” I minimized the translation window and ran a search for a song I listened to right before I was frozen:
“My love is in a thought,” The pop singer sang with a melancholy beat, “My love is in a thought,” she deftly repeated. “And my memory provides a cry / She always follows closely / Time a fleeing thing / I sing of the happy endings / Even when they don't apply, / A moment of peace, / A moment of peace, / Like the moonlight in her eyes…”
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