The Divide


  What’s it like over there?

  A simple question on a giant sign. I lower my binoculars and begin to write my reply on an old whiteboard I found in a derelict school building.

  Empty I write in big letters. I hold it high above my head and wait until I see him lower his binoculars and begin scribbling again. I drop the board beside me and wait, chewing on a protein bar as I do so.

  Same. Let’s meet?

  I don’t know how I feel about his proposition. When I first saw him waving from across the ravine I felt… elated. Relieved. In love with this faceless silhouette, for God’s sake. I hadn’t seen anyone in weeks since the shattering, but now, after a days speaking, he says we find a way across and I’m suddenly nervous and scared and terrified about my new friend’s true intentions.

  How? I simply write back.

  Walk comes his reply, with an arrow pointing to the left. He begins to walk and, not wanting to be left alone anymore, I pick up my board and follow him.


~ by Joseph Blame on May 19, 2011.

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