For The First Time.

For The First Time.

“’That feeling of everything being experienced for the first time.

…that is wonderful.

Remembering that feeling…

That’s…

That is…

Merciful.’ And that’s all that’s written.”

“Is there more!?”

Zevor flicked the paper, “Hmm…yeah I didn’t see. It reads,

‘Memory is beauty wrapped in past times. To think about each time I have these feelings, it brings me immense joy. I’ve learned that this feeling I’ve been experiencing is nothing new to anyone, it just does not have a specific enough name. Some may argue that nostalgia or anemoia fits this term best, however I beg to argue. This feeling is not a simple past life memory, it is like being born for the first time again and again and to remember exactly how that feels, that is what I do not have the words for. I am a child in the world’s eyes, but to the greater world, whatever world that may be, I am but a zygote.’ And I think that’s the rest.”

“What’s any of this supposed to mean?” Zazzory asked, hovering over Zevor’s shoulder.

“…’Memory’. That’s all it’s simply titled.”

“What’s?…” Zevor stopped his words. He looked outside out of curiosity.

“Hey guys?”

“Hm?” Zazzory answered.

“Yeah?” Kryrella quickly responded.

“…Memory…” Zevor whispered.

“What are you talking about?” Zazzory whispered back.

Kryrella looked at them from the couch in the living room on the back wall.

A small and warm smile creeped its way on Zevor’s face.

“I wonder…can we find our own memories like that?”

“Zevor, what’re you talking about? I thought we were trying to figure out where this note came from.” Zazzory threw her hand up.

“We were. But honestly that can wait.”

“-What!?”

“I’m curious to know what this person means when he says, ‘remembering past memory is mercy.’”

“And how are you going to figure that out?” Zazzory asked with her left hand on her hip.

The house suddenly went quiet.

Tiny hairs on Zevor’s hands like an unkept lawn.

He looked around, “You know… I never really thought about it.”

“-About what Zevor? What are you talking about?”

…

“Hello?”

“Shh!”

Zazzory rolled her eyes, “What!?”

“Please Zazzory…”

Kryrella looked up.

…

“…Can you hear that? It’s almost like…there’s a humming.”

“…I don’t…hear anything Zev.”

“Neither do I.” Kryrella said.

…”Hm…” Zevor folded the letter and placed it aside.

“Why do you seem obsessed with this all of sudden?” Zazzory tapped the table.

“Because! …I-I feel like…I know what this letter means but I’m also curious to experience that feeling of remembering the first time.”

Zazzory dropped to her legs. Up to Zevor’s ear she asked, “What does that mean?” She grabbed his chin, “Hey! Focus! This letter came to us out of nowhere. Zax delivered it to me this morning. This isn’t some riddle we need to figure out. We have no idea what this is… Zevor!”

“Huh!?- oh sorry. I understand but…I…uh…y-yeah y-you’re right. I just…I think…” Zevor slowly turned his head to his right.

He faced into the kitchen and at the end was a side door. His eyes focused on the window on the door.

Zazzory squinted her eyes.

Kryrella stood up and walked over.

Light seemed to warp through the window on the door.

Zevor’s lips creaked open.

Zazzory, at a loss of words.

Kryrella looked over, her eyes lit up.

The air became cooler, pots and pans hung still, dishes settled, trees outside swayed gently, grass waved back and forth, the faucet dropped a drip with every slow burning minute.

Zevor’s finger twitched.

All Zazzory could mutter was a whisper, “…what…?”

The wind crashed into the windows in the kitchen.

Everything seemed to sparkle. Dust particles roamed free, rays of light walked into the kitchen through thin, reflective crystals.

“It’s…beautiful…isn’t it?” Zevor said softly.

“I…I guess it is…but…nothing’s there. It’s just…our…

Kitchen.”

Zevor stared. Each word barely left his lips, “Weird…I never stopped to listen to the sound of…nothing.”

“I don’t get it…why am I…” Weakly, Kryrella continued, “Why am I… Why am I tearing up?”

Zazzory began to breathe heavily and shake, “Zevor I’m not sure if I like this feeling-what’s going on?”

Zevor lifted his finger to Zazzory. He squinted his eyes, “ ’m…not sure…but…I think…I think it’s…fine?”

“Well, something about this seems sketchy.”

“I know.”

“I…I feel kinda…uncomfortable. But, it’s like a good uncomfortable…a little…”

“Don’t you feel the air…?” Zevor attempted to reach out but his muscles barely moved.

“I don’t…I don’t feel. I don’t feel anything Zevor.”

…

Kryrella became weak in her knees, “I’m getting tired. But I wanna stay here and look at this forever.”

“Me too.” Zazzory agreed, “Wait! …I guess…I do.”

“Me three…what feeling is this?”

The kitchen became brighter, warmer. The air got denser.

“Feel that now? It feels…kinda…heavy.” Zevor tried to lift his other fingers.

Kryrella softly chimed in, “I guess this feeling is…”