I'm sorry

I walked down the street. Misa was keeping me company. An old friend, in a nostalgic atmosphere. Her hair was pulled into a sleek bun. The old town felt welcoming, as always. The sound of flowing water filled the air. The sky was light blue, stretching to the horizon. We were chatting about the old days and old friends.

Misa stopped. She grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me back. Her expression was off. Her eyes darted back and forth. Suddenly, the sky darkened. The wide street seemed to tighten. She looked deep into my eyes with a piercing gaze that sent chills down my spine.

“Lorenzo,” she called my name fiercely. “Wake up.”

“NOW.”

Her words felt like a spell.

The realization hit hard. I felt a sharp whistle in my ears. I blinked hard. It was unbearable. I opened my eyes to the sight of a stranger looming over my resting body.

My eyes widened. I sat up straight, putting some distance between us. In the process, I remembered that the stranger was the same guy who had walked in before my eyes drifted off.

I had been resting in the old train station after a long walking journey under the burning sun. He sat on the opposite bench, facing me.

Was I uncomfortable?

Absolutely.

Did I complain?

Probably not.

He was a pale, tall guy with platinum-blond hair and light-blue eyes. His eye bags stretched to half of his cheeks. His color palette was a washed-out version of the original, which made him look sick. He was wearing a long dark coat with leather gloves and boots. Whatever the fashion suggested these days.

I rested my eyes on the ceiling with no intention of sleeping. Yet I ended up snoring. Finally, exhaustion had caught up to me, I guess.

“I’m sorry. Did I scare you?” he apologized.

Oh, indeed! I screamed internally, yet I managed a small smile.

“No. I just had a weird dream.”

“Well, I just heard on the radio that a storm is coming this way,” he said, more like he was stating a fact than worrying about the situation.

Cool. I like it.

I reached for the cigarettes in my pocket and exhaled a smoky cloud of nicotine. I held one between my fingers.

“Do you want one?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Okay, the more, the merrier for me,” I said while stretching. “Right?”

He smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Tough crowd.

“So, what should we do?” he asked me, like I knew the answer myself.

“I don’t know, but maybe we can check those buildings,” I said, pointing behind me and already walking.

…

I looked back and found him still in his place.

For God’s sake, I hate to say this, but I have to.

Everything seemed ordinary about him, yet nothing was. Doubt was building up. Dozens of unanswered questions.

I took a deep breath and looked back.

“Why are you rooted to your spot, fellas?”

I walked back and bumped a fist against his shoulder.

“We are in this together.”

We started walking again…

And damn, I wanted to shout, “WE HAVE TO HURRY UP!”

It was already dawn. The sky was colored in a pretty shade of orange. I had to slow my pace just to match his.

I can’t help it. I feel like he will stab me if I give him my back.

“So, what’s your name, buddy? Mine’s Lorenzo.”

“…Tomas. My name’s Tomas,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Oh, Tom? So how old are you? Twenty-four? Twenty-five?” I asked with the enthusiasm of a kid on their first day of school, knowing damn well I couldn’t care less.

“…You actually got it right. Twenty-four.”

His tone held disbelief.

I kept drifting back and forth from subject to subject, avoiding the real questions that needed to be answered. Our feet echoed through the empty halls.

This town had lived mainly off an oasis. Unfortunately, the oasis dried up, and the population had to move on.

So did they?