«The Road Trip – Day 1»

I woke up a lot earlier than I usually do, got out of bed and showered. Then I clipped my nails, shaved what I can call a beard, and actually brushed my teeth. It was even morning still by the time I finished.

My bags were already packed, as they have been for a couple weeks, but finally prepared the night before with a few last minute items. I had laid the days clothes out for myself, which I, of course, had already fit into my suitcase; I know I’ll have room for extra things if I need another shirt or two back home. Unfortunately I have to drag Eon’s bag back with me, so I won’t really be able to bring all the things I’d want for a summer. Like the stuff stored on my external hard drive, but I figure it will be safer at home, and I can always buy a new one with the money I’ll be making if I do stay all summer, otherwise I’d be back in a month. Either way, it will be a short while before I’m reunited with all of my precious data.

I tried to kill time all day, anxious about the trip, ever so ready to get it underway. Brick was picking me up from the jam, but I’d needed a ride there. Allan grudgingly gave me a lift, making a big deal about not being able to go; though he had arranged a trip for his summer before I had, along the coast to Cydonia, and never really made provisions for me to go with him, so whatever. It was one of the reasons I wanted to go on this trip in the first place.

The guys were sad to see me go, they liked the variety I added by singing along with Allan. They were finally willing to play all the songs I’d been trying to get them to try for months. It was a short lived experience though, Brick came before the jam was through and I loaded all the bags (one case, mine; an even larger one, Eon’s) in his trunk, where they would stay for a few days.

The small pack I prepared has all the provisions I’d need to survive a couple days without everything else, spare food and water. I have my toiletries, electronics and chargers. I have a spare change of clothes with flip flops, and an extra pair of socks on top of that. I have my towel. I have the 21 pre-rolled joints we’ll be rationing out along the way. I have the Flowers of Taurus. I’ll carry this thing back and forth from the vehicle to the hotel, just change and restock the pack when it gets smelly, and hopefully be able to wash everything before the festival starts, just in case it rains and I need something dry by the end of it.

We got to his house and finished packing up all the stuff he would need for a year on Earth. When we’d completed our short task, aided by Brick‘s lovi, we made a ceremonial journey to the top-of-the-world, in Fender. Well, every town seems to have a top-of-the-world, and I’m sure well see many greater things along our way that would just flatten this meager mountain.

It was the very spot I left the bunnies to their fate. From now on it would be the spot we smoked two joints to commemorate our trip. We walked far down a path, far enough that out in the distance, between the other ridges that get in the way, you could perfectly see the ever illuminated skyline of Novus Angelicas.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could actually get such a clear view of it from here. I never saw it like this from Linda’s house…or anywhere along here,” I remembered being frustrated any day I’d tried to take pictures on walks here.

“Well not many people see this cause its closed during the night. And it just, kinda looks like a horse trail. It’s actually part of golf course right below us.” Brick informed me.

“I’ve never seen it like this.”

“Well get a good look, cause it will be the last time you will for a long, long while, good sir.” He the handed the second one back to me, almost finished.

I took one last large drag, and an equally  large view of the glowing towers of white and gold in the background. How long will it be before I come back down?

*****

The first day started early. 8 am is never been an acceptable hour to wake up–unless it’s Eridian time–and 7:45 even less appropriate.

“Wakey, wakey, sir. Our journey begins,” Brick said excitedly, sticking his head into the room where I slept.

“Alright, alright,” I muttered, rolling over. I yawned and sat up as I tried to remember what chords I was playing in my dream, though it was futile. I gave up trying when I realized they probably wouldn’t sound as good in real life anyway; if those notes even existed. I stretched and began to move my blood around, finding I was better rested than I expected to be, I surely thought my anticipation would cut into my sleep. I felt fortunate for the weeks of preparation that went into this day. My bags were ready, the crawler was packed, the drugs were waiting. All that was left was for us to pile in and take off.

We weren’t taking the Fondgrid company vehicle, instead wed just be taking nicks crawler, which he would then drive back to school to have there, and then bring back home when he graduated next summer. We could take the same route we planned from Mars to Luna: drive a few hours to get to the UA Ferry, which departs just north of Valles Marineris–the middle of the gorking desert–and land on what Earthlings commonly refer to as the far side of the moon.

Then tomorrow, after a 12 hour haul that will be hard to sleep through while still sitting in the crawler, we’ll drive east, through the mountains and valleys and more gorking mountains, until it starts to flatten out, much like a wave function, into the smooth flat plains on the near side of the moon. Then we could take a more direct route to the southern hemisphere of Earth, since we wouldn’t be restricted to a ferry large enough to carry a broadside. We could use the Old Gammatheon ferry, which follows as close to ancient Rte. 66 as you can get these days. It would make our overall trip less lengthy and a lot more historic all at once.

“Hey, looks like we get to go through Dominia on this route,” I realized, inspecting the new route. “The complete other side of the territory from where I was born, but that’s cool none the less.”

“Bring it back to today’s map,” he requested, looking over at the PDA in my hand while we were stopped at a light. “I just want to see which freeway it says to take out of here.”

“Looks like…the 60 to Berdu, and the 15 on,” I responded, finding the information quickly, “we’re heading the right way.”

“Excellent, excellent. When do we want to start?” Brick asked, motioning to the closed ashtray resting between us.

“Let’s get out of this sprawl first, I’ll feel much safer about it if we just reach the desert first. And we’ve only got one for today, anyway.”

“You’ve got a point, how long do we have?”

“As your navigator, I advise you to drive at top speed…”

“Yeah, yeah, that shtick is gonna get old real quick,” he shot me a preemptive glare.

I giggled to myself as soon as he turned back to the road, merging onto the freeway. I could see it stretch out impossibly far before me, disappearing into the far mountains. I had no idea what lay on the other side, but couldn’t wait to find out.

06-05-2309

I woke up a lot earlier than I usually do, got out of bed and showered. Then I clipped my nails, shaved what I can call a beard, and actually brushed my teeth. It was even morning still by the time I finished.

My bags were already packed, as they have been for a couple weeks, but finally prepared the night before with a few last minute items. I had laid the days clothes out for myself, which I, of course, had already fit into my suitcase; I know I’ll have room for extra things if I need another shirt or two back home. Unfortunately I have to drag Eon’s bag back with me, so I won’t really be able to bring all the things I’d want for a summer. Like the stuff stored on my external hard drive, but I figure it will be safer at home, and I can always buy a new one with the money I’ll be making if I do stay all summer, otherwise I’d be back in a month. Either way, it will be a short while before I’m reunited with all of my precious data.

I tried to kill time all day, anxious about the trip, ever so ready to get it underway. Brick was picking me up from the jam, but I’d needed a ride there. Allan grudgingly gave me a lift, making a big deal about not being able to go; though he had arranged a trip for his summer before I had, along the coast to Cydonia, and never really made provisions for me to go with him, so whatever. It was one of the reasons I wanted to go on this trip in the first place.

The guys were sad to see me go, they liked the variety I added by singing along with Allan. They were finally willing to play all the songs I’d been trying to get them to try for months. It was a short lived experience though, Brick came before the jam was through and I loaded all the bags (one case, mine; an even larger one, Eon’s) in his trunk, where they would stay for a few days.

The small pack I prepared has all the provisions I’d need to survive a couple days without everything else, spare food and water. I have my toiletries, electronics and chargers. I have a spare change of clothes with flip flops, and an extra pair of socks on top of that. I have my towel. I have the 21 pre-rolled joints we’ll be rationing out along the way. I have the Flowers of Taurus. I’ll carry this thing back and forth from the vehicle to the hotel, just change and restock the pack when it gets smelly, and hopefully be able to wash everything before the festival starts, just in case it rains and I need something dry by the end of it.

We got to his house and finished packing up all the stuff he would need for a year on Earth. When we’d completed our short task, aided by Brick‘s lovi, we made a ceremonial journey to the top-of-the-world, in Fender. Well, every town seems to have a top-of-the-world, and I’m sure well see many greater things along our way that would just flatten this meager mountain.

It was the very spot I left the bunnies to their fate. From now on it would be the spot we smoked two joints to commemorate our trip. We walked far down a path, far enough that out in the distance, between the other ridges that get in the way, you could perfectly see the ever illuminated skyline of Novus Angelicas.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could actually get such a clear view of it from here. I never saw it like this from Linda’s house…or anywhere along here,” I remembered being frustrated any day I’d tried to take pictures on walks here.

“Well not many people see this cause its closed during the night. And it just, kinda looks like a horse trail. It’s actually part of golf course right below us.” Brick informed me.

“I’ve never seen it like this.”

“Well get a good look, cause it will be the last time you will for a long, long while, good sir.” He the handed the second one back to me, almost finished.

I took one last large drag, and an equally large view of the glowing towers of white and gold in the background. How long will it be before I come back down?

«←→»

The first day started early. 8 am is never been an acceptable hour to wake up–unless it’s Eridian time–and 7:45 even less appropriate.

“Wakey, wakey, sir. Our journey begins,” Brick said excitedly, sticking his head into the room where I slept.

“Alright, alright,” I muttered, rolling over. I yawned and sat up as I tried to remember what chords I was playing in my dream, though it was futile. I gave up trying when I realized they probably wouldn’t sound as good in real life anyway; if those notes even existed. I stretched and began to move my blood around, finding I was better rested than I expected to be, I surely thought my anticipation would cut into my sleep. I felt fortunate for the weeks of preparation that went into this day. My bags were ready, the crawler was packed, the drugs were waiting. All that was left was for us to pile in and take off.

We weren’t taking the Fondgrid company vehicle, instead wed just be taking nicks crawler, which he would then drive back to school to have there, and then bring back home when he graduated next summer. We could take the same route we planned from Mars to Luna: drive a few hours to get to the UA Ferry, which departs just north of Valles Marineris–the middle of the gorking desert–and land on what Earthlings commonly refer to as the far side of the moon.

Then tomorrow, after a 12 hour haul that will be hard to sleep through while still sitting in the crawler, we’ll drive east, through the mountains and valleys and more gorking mountains, until it starts to flatten out, much like a wave function, into the smooth flat plains on the near side of the moon. Then we could take a more direct route to the southern hemisphere of Earth, since we wouldn’t be restricted to a ferry large enough to carry a broadside. We could use the Old Gammatheon ferry, which follows as close to ancient Rte. 66 as you can get these days. It would make our overall trip less lengthy and a lot more historic all at once.

“Hey, looks like we get to go through Dominia on this route,” I realized, inspecting the new course. “The complete other side of the territory from where I was born, but that’s cool none the less.”

“Bring it back to today’s map,” he requested, looking over at the PDA in my hand while we were stopped at a light. “I just want to see which freeway it says to take out of here.”

“Looks like…the 60 to Berdu, and the 15 on,” I responded, finding the information quickly, “we’re heading the right way.”

“Excellent, excellent. When do we want to start?” Brick asked, motioning to the closed ashtray resting between us.

“Let’s get out of this sprawl first, I’ll feel much safer about it if we just reach the desert first. And we’ve only got one for today, anyway.”

“You’ve got a point, how long do we have?”

“As your navigator, I advise you to drive at top speed…”

“Yeah, yeah, that shtick is gonna get old real quick,” he shot me a preemptive glare.

I giggled to myself as soon as he turned back to the road, merging onto the freeway. I could see it stretch out impossibly far before me, disappearing into the far mountains. I had no idea what lay on the other side, but couldn’t wait to find out.

«How to Plan a Summer Road Trip»

05-20-2309

Brick’s back in town!

Fondgrid has been one of my best friends for a while. Of the first acquaintances I made after moving to this desolate rock, I think he’s the only person I still hang out with. Well, I say that relatively since I only see him when he makes visits during his breaks from college on Earth, though that’s still far more often than I run into anyone else from that town. I know I just saw him two months ago when he came for the spring holiday, but it’s always good to have another friend around.

He had grown up and graduated with Linda, the girl I was dating back then–you know, the one I came to Mars for. It was so nice to find someone as intelligent as all my friends were growing up, smart like Allan, and I can remember great times hanging out, just the three of us, anytime he was back home from school. Late nights and the lights of Fender below, just smoking, drinking, talking…I miss those days, come to think of it. After she and I broke up, he did his best not to take sides, but always knew where to come if he needed a good smoke and a nerd off with someone.

He’s only staying in town two more weeks, though. At first I was upset that he wouldn’t even be back for a whole month, but last night I changed my mood about it.

“Say, sir, what are you doing come June?” Brick asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke in my direction.

“Uh…I’m pretty sure I have nothing going this summer,” I contemplated it as I took a hit, the exception coming to mind as I passed it back to him. “Oh wait, I’ve got one thing towards the end of June. Eon is making a trip back to grab all the stuff she left.”

“All the stuff they broke into your crawler for and didn’t even take?” he sneered.

“That’s the stuff. She’s coming to get it all and I just have to be here to give it to her, why do you ask?” He handed the glass back to me in a second, indicating with his eyebrows that the ash needed to be cleared.

“Oh, no reason, just…ROAD TRIP!!” he exclaimed, catching me so off guard with the fragile smoking piece in my hand that I almost dropped the little thing.

“What? Really? Where?” I didn’t know which I wanted him to answer first.

“I’m going to Earth, same way I drove last summer, but this time I’m staying in Carolina, working at the plant there til I go back to school in the fall. I think I can make more money there than working for them here.”

His family owned a corporation called Fondgrid Foods based in Olympus County. You might have seen them, I can’t remember if we had any back home, but in most of the sandwich cases in Martian liquor stores, you’ll spot an array of their products, neatly packaged with their famous red label. I’m kinda partial to Fondgrid jerky myself. Anyway, he usually spends his summers working for his father to make a little money for school, but last summer he had driven a company broadside to their branch in Carolina, just a few hours south of Menesopolis.

“Really, well I’ll be damned,” I was excitedly distracted from filling the glass up again.

“And before I start working…BONNAROO!!” I almost dropped it again.

Bonnaroo is a huge deal–Earth’s largest annual music and arts festival, or at least the biggest one I’ve ever been to. It rivals certain Martian events like the Carnival and Palmchella, but could even be considered the Earth’s equivalent to Mars’s Burning Man.

The half-weeklong jamboree is frequented by that same hippie crowd, still preaching the same verses of peace and love our parents have been singing since the late 2260s. Back in my younger, more drug addled days, it was exactly my kind of scene. I may have gotten all my chemical experimentation out of the way early in life, but I think I could still agree with ideals of peace and unity. Granted, there’s a bit fewer paisleys and rainbows around, mostly flashing lights and glowsticks, but whose keeping score, anyway?

“That’s astro, dude. I’m really jealous,” I congratulated him with contempt, remembering the fun I had, during the parts I could remember.

“Like I asked, what are you doing this summer? Cause one of the girls I’m tenting with dropped out and is selling her ticket for half price, and, uh…I don’t feel like making that trip alone this year..” he said. I was too shocked to say anything. So he continued, “it will take a day to get to the ferry, 2 to get across Luna and another 2 across the western continent of Earth. The other girl that’s still coming is catching a direct flight in on the 9th, so we just have to make sure we’re at least as far as the Appalachia Spaceport by then.”

“So we’d have to leave by 4th or sometime early on the 5th to make it in time,” I responded, the wheels in my head grinding away.

“So you’ll come?! Sweet!” Brick cheered, adding a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, money will only sorta be an issue. It’s pool season and my dad owes me a trip. Hell, what does he care, he’ll just be stoked he doesn’t have to cover my spacefare,” and that money could go towards gas, lodging, food and the ticket for the show, I realized.

“Man, this is going to be the ultimest road trip. Ever!” I could tell that his Martian cogs were spinning at full steam as well. “Should we go closer to the northern hemisphere of Luna like I did last time, or try deep the southern?”

“Mmm…well the only thing I’d want to do in southern Luna is visit my aunt in New Martia, but I don’t really have the time, it would be out of the way. Besides, that means we’d probably have to go through more of the south of Earth,” I shuddered to think of all those battle flags that still hung on front porches, along with their giant swingseats. “Which I am less than willing to do.”

“I as well, good sir, I as well,” Fondgrid confirmed.

“Hey, this way I could just bring all of Eon’s stuff with me to Earth, and neither of us have to worry about having enough room, or it being too heavy,” I pondered another second, “we’ll have enough room in the broadside for a couple of extra cases, right?”

“Yes, we should. We may need to cut down on other extra weight though, but I don’t mind if you don’t,” he agreed to the idea.

“No I don‘t, I need to practice packing less anyway. Hold on, lemme just text her real quick, run through the plan again, please,” I set the half-full pipe aside for a moment and reached into one of my pockets for my texti. With one swift motion of my thumb, I slid the phone open and began to send a new message.

“Ok, in two weeks we leave from Fender, heading north west, past the Tharsis Montes and just North of the Mariners Valleys. From there we catch a quick ferry to Luna. There we stick to the northern hemisphere and the same when we finally get to Earth. We’ll cut through the bottom of your state and be in Carolina in no time. This way we avoid the rednecks and the hicks and drop 10 kg by not having to carry a weapon and ammunition. Then, Bonnaroo. Good?”

“Well hold on a second, Brick. We don’t want to go too far north right? Terra is nice and all, but even in summer, it’s cold as the balls of an Acheron penguin up there. I mean, I think that’s why they put the border there in the first place. We should stay in the Territories.”

“Yes, Klay, I know all about it. My school is right next to the Terran Border. I left my passport there for a reason,” he chuckled.

“So that means we’re left with one option: to go through the religious ring,” I concluded, “so I still want to bring a shotgun.” We both laughed out loud, but I was suddenly serious.

“Oh. Well, we don’t actually have weapons on the truck, I was just joking about not needing them, cause we never actually do at Fondgrid,” Brick admitted.

“Ahh, gork,” I said disappointed, but understanding. It’s not that I liked guns, I’ve hardly used anything larger than a B.B. myself. I just don’t trust religious fanatics. “We’ll have to be careful, still.”

“Shut up, we’ll be fine. Besides, I plotted this route so we’d barely touch that horrible area” he laughed. “Now have you decided on a good school for it yet, or are you just baby sitting the little thing?” he said indicating to the inert glass in my hand, trying make a crack at me.

“Uh, right,” caught off guard by the joke, I looked down at the twisted piece, charged and ready to go, then smirked. “To the Summer!” I raised in toast. The lighter snapped aglow.

«Where Did I Go Wrong?»

01-25-2309

     I sit on the plastic bench outside my temporary home smoking a cigarette by myself as the question returns to me. Is there a specific moment in my life when everything went array or has it been a slow and gradual decline?  Was it fate that I turn out this way or was it a choice I made, and could I have made it differently?  I’m not even sure if I suddenly feel like I’m at the bottom of the ladder or if I’ve noticed each rung as I’ve descended–I don’t even know if there isn’t another step beneath me.

     If I’m gonna begin by trying to pin down a date, it makes perfect sense to pick a stereotypical fall from grace, say: starting to smoke cigarettes. Now I know that’s a cop out since it obviously leads to destructive behavioral patterns, so maybe I should hone that one better. Starting to hang out with Osker could have done it, the little Europan hooligan sure did get us into some interesting situations. I’d say spending time with him lead me to develop most of the bad habits that are still my favorite to this day. Blaming him may work exceptionally well if you consider the time he introduced me to Eon. I highly doubt she and I hung out often enough then to have any influence on each other, but there was at least one important time I remember.

     It was late in a humid day sometime in the middle of August. During the summer after I graduated, I had recently met someone, a Martian that I didn’t know was about to change things forever. Eon and I were sprawled out on her bed in the afternoon sun, probably exhausting our phone books in search of drugs to fill remainder of the day. Then I brought up the question of mushrooms not expecting an affirmation, though it sent her reeling towards her bookshelf ecstatically. She retrieved a green paperback book entitled Food of The Gods and placed it in my hands, boasting it would change my life. To her honor, it did help to change my life, revolutionizing the way I looked at religion, esotericism and fungus, and sparking my ongoing journey of spiritual discovery–currently simmering on the back burner.

     Maybe I shouldn’t assume that any of them lead me here. Who knows, I’d probably have turned out smoking and drinking by now anyway, I can’t blame Osker or any of our punkish friends, and Eon ended up going to my high school the next year, so I‘d have met her either way. Speaking of school, what if it started when they placed me in accelerated learning back in elementary school. Some bullshit analysis had been taken of my 2nd grade class, and I was one of three students chosen to be uprooted from the only friends we had known and transplanted into an advanced curriculum, with other gifted and talented students taken from across the county.

     I figured out very quickly all that meant was more busywork to do, and learned from a young age how to never turn in a piece of homework and still ace the test. We were deep in the school but always separate from the rest of students, a much nerdier microcosm of the world surrounding us. And at the bottom of the geek’s pecking order was the shortest little Earthling boy in the school. I could have very well developed a napoleon complex from it all. No, that would be too easy, blame a life of debauchery and villainy on an awkward and lonely childhood, I can do much better than that. And, you know, once I was through with a middle school which had the same program, and I was finally given choice over what kinds of classes I would take, I took all regular ones anyway.

     Perhaps my first step on the path of darkness was taking up acting. I know, right, go ahead and blame the devil’s work of magic and theatrics, but it’s seriously lead me down some strange paths. For starters, any girl I’ve ever had a serious relationship with I have gotten to know through theater . For that matter, most of the not serious and downright momentary relations I’ve had were because I was working on some aspect of a show she was part of. Piper was first girl that broke my heart–though we never even really had a relationship at all–but if I had never stepped onto that stage maybe I wouldn’t have walked into her web. I shudder suddenly, dreading for a second to think of how many hearts I’ve since shattered compared to that fracture.

     Hmm, maybe I really should consider placing it all on acting. If I hadn’t have gotten sucked into it I wouldn’t have kept at it so long and gotten so good. If I hadn’t have been so good I wouldn’t have been recognized by award. If I hadn’t have been recognized by award I would have never stuck to the stage for another summer and gone to the national workshop they invited me to. If I hadn’t have gone to that national workshop I would have never met Linda, date her, or fall in love with her, and if I hadn’t have done all that I certainly wouldn’t have packed up and started my life anew on Mars for her.

     I take a puff off my cigarette and decide to shift gears. I squeeze the butt, bursting a capsule hidden deep inside and releasing a blue liquid into the filter. The next drag I take is cool and mentholated, the smoke I exhale now icy fresh, it hurts my teeth a little bit. Maybe I’m not going about this the right way.

     What is it that’s so wrong with my life right now that I could have only come to this point by taking a twisted path? Are things really as bad as I’m making them out to be? Right now I’m in the paradise I’ve always wanted to live in, though I’ve been here so long I can’t remember if I’m not just telling myself that I’ve always wanted to. I don’t have to clean up and clock in for work every day, though a Solar recession threatens an economic depression and I have no real source of income. I’m not worrying my ass off about homework and grades, rushing to get to class in time, even if I can feel my mental acuity and my grips on a career slipping further each day I remain stagnant.

     The transformed cigarette begins to singe the top of my knuckle before I quickly shake my hand and dash it to the curb in a panic. I sigh and kiss my fingers for a second. Of course things are bad, how could I even try to wax positive on this. I should at least be involved in a college community, networking and making friends, enriching my life beyond my small social circle and pushing for a degree that will support me. I could be saving up money to do what makes me feel good, or maybe so I can be able to get off this planet for a while when I need to, or at least see the rest of it before I’m burned out of this red world.

     I shouldn’t be having to worry about all of this catching up in the first place, I should be focusing on enjoying life to the fullest. Instead I’m wallowing in the mess I’ve made for myself and can’t find the shovel, even though I know I was just using it a second ago. Where I am in life and all the problems that surround me are no one’s fault but my own: I create and feed the issues that dominate my field of vision, and it’s within my will to conquer or look past them to get what I need for myself. I can’t blame any specific event or person–though they may have helped in turn along the way–I’m the only one who’s been digging the whole time.

«Pointless»

12-25-2308

I knew it wouldn’t work. I knew something was going to go wrong from the start. Like everything I touch it was doomed to fail before anything could come to fruition. I shouldn’t have let myself get so wrapped up in all of it in the first place. I was blinded by optimism and my stupid hopes.

She was the only person I was looking forward to seeing when I came back to Earth. Even if she had been living on Mars and I had seen her three-quarters of the past month, she was truly the only thing on my mind before I came here. I couldn’t wait to hold her tiny frame in my arms, I couldn’t wait to kiss those delicate lips, I just couldn’t wait to be with her again. I also couldn’t see the turmoil that lay just ahead of us.

Christmas day had been one of bad news and devastation to Eon and her family. They lost their eldest son on one such morning not a handful of years ago, and nobody had ever been the same since. She took up the reins of an addict as her parents began the occupation of worrying about losing a second child. It only makes sense that they’d be a little overprotective of their daughter.

I thought I was dismayed when I learned she wasn’t quite as serious about us and our relationship as I was. I thought I was distraught when I discovered she had seen other guys in the few days we’d been back on Earth. I thought I was destroyed when I realized the three little words she told me not even a week before were useless if she wouldn’t back them up with deed. But I knew if I had to go back to Mars and she wouldn’t be there I was just going to be depressed.

Her parents clipped their little bird’s wings and showed her to her new cage. I knew I could only bring so many crackers to her before I myself would be brought to tears, to see her beat against the bars and not be able to spread her feathers. All I wanted was for her to fly free and be happy, but I felt there was no way I could help her now, as desperate as I tried.

She gave me a kiss on the cheek as we hugged, then disappeared into her vehicle. I sighed and lit a cigarette, waved to her as she drove off, and turned to my brother’s behemoth of a crawler, thumbing the key before climbing up into the cabin. I wanted to take it and steer myself off the nearest cliff, but realized this gesture would be as futile as any thing I’d done in the past year. Instead I drove home to put down my head and hope that the next day would be better.

‘What was the point in trying,’ echoed the discouraged voice in my head as I closed my sore, weary eyes. I fell asleep on my damp pillow feeling as dumb as ever.

«Eviction Party»

12-22-2308

     The news was inevitable. There was no way that Tohm had come up with the money, and Eon had moved out three days prior, knowing as well as I did what was about to happen. It was a rather expected notice, and well prepared for, but the news was still shocking.

     ‘Notice of Eviction for Tenants of Apartment Γ-1. Effective as of 12/18/2308. Sincerely, OC Properties Management.’

     I sighed and crumpled the paper up, making sure to pick off the last threads of celluloid tape that affixed it to our front door. I had been putting off the first cigarette of the day so I wouldn’t have to be the one announcing it to Tohm; not that we didn’t see it coming anyway. I didn’t even want to light the my factory-rolled tobacco stick, but I suddenly needed it.

     Tohm had lost his job, serving at that family restaurant in Newport Beach, about five weeks ago. His irresponsibility and propensity to sleep until the early evening eventually overcame any good standing he had with his bosses or the clientele. Being a corporate chain, they took the two warnings for similar slip-ups into strong account when they terminated him, and the effects were immediate.

     We had already turned in my portion of the rent, and used it to finagle ourselves a 15 day Promise-To-Pay extension on the rent, but with eight days in and not a dollar from Tohm for what he owed, it didn’t look like there were any options out. The day he lost his job, all my hopes of starting my life anew in Costa Mensa were quickly siphoned off. That was until it flooded in the day before our last scheduled eviction.

     A surge of hope named Eon flowed in that day. She had come to hang with us just as she had last week. And, expecting consequences as disastrous as her first visit, came prepared with a weeks worth of clothes and her beauty supplies. Lou had only intended on chilling out for a couple of days while she was suspended from her retail job in NA, but when our plight dawned on her in the early afternoon, it seemed her plans had changed.

     She was the only reason we were able to keep the new place. She sacrificed every dollar she had saved up working all summer long, money she had wanted to use to get herself a crawler out here, or maybe just spend on girly things that would make her happy. Instead it disappeared faster than a cockroach in the light.

     Keeping my home wasn’t, of course, the only pro to the situation. I had been infatuated, if not enamored, with Eon since we went to school together back on Earth. The fates had never allowed us to become close in the past, but I felt like her first moving to Mars, then falling upon my doorstep, and having enough money to keep us afloat another month were all the orchestrations of invisible hands I’d never paid much attention to.

     Granted, at times I wanted those invisible hands to wring her soft little neck, but that’s just a con of living platonically with someone you have such a strong attraction to. She was never farther than arms length at any time during her occupancy, we even shared the same bed. You’d think I’d have gotten sick of what was apparently unrequited love, but instead the feelings grew in my gut like a tumor. So much to the point that I didn’t even feel upset about losing my home as much as I was distraught about not living with her.

     I also don’t have any qualms with outing Tohm. He had, and continues to have, a major drug problem. I drink alcohol and smoke cannabis almost every day, but these are the days I can afford it. He was addicted to Venusian Coca; a habit that cost him 60 dollars a day even when he didn’t have the money for it. On top of that he also consumed everything else that wasn’t nailed down in the house with such fervor it made me wonder if the devil worked as hard for what he wanted.

     I blamed him for losing my home. I blamed myself for not realizing this would happen the day we moved in and he started chatting away on his touchi in Martian with his dealer when I told him I had a little cash to get booze. I blamed Allan for setting me up with his co-worker in the first place, knowing him and his problems far better than I did. Mostly though, I just blamed Tohm for being too hopeless to ever recover.

     I spent the last day in my brand new home carrying all of my possessions out of it. Luckily our neighbors had agreed to let us keep our stuff in their garage until we could find new places to live, so it was a short trip down the flight of stairs–but like everything, I had to do it on my own. It’s only fitting though, that the captain go down with his ship. I surveyed the damage one last time, the rooms barren and fresh as the day we moved in 2  months ago. I stepped back, tipping my hat to emptiness and locked up, closing the door on this chapter of my life.

     At least I was going home for the holiday, and it worked out that my flight back to Earth would occur the same day I had to vacate the residence. As I started my crawler for the first and last time in two weeks, I thought of my dear Eon and hoped to feel the warmth of her embrace soon. I lit a cigarette and watched my old place disappear in the rear view mirror.

«Gone With the Wind»

12-14-2308

     I wake up to a cold bed. I shiver reaching for something warm, only the find the lump beside me is just a blanket. I sigh and roll, pulling it over my shoulder into a ball I can wrap my arms around and try to go back to sleep. I lay here for an hour tossing back and forth before I finally give up and put on some pants. Sitting at the end of my bed, I look around my hauntingly empty room for a moment. The floor is spotless, free of shoes and clothes and suitcases, the shelves void of beer cans and books. There isn’t even a discarded pile of blankets to the side of the bed, or giant bean bag chair at its foot. A shut closet door and solitary, poorly illuminating, lamp stand facing me as I wake, like the last loyal subjects of a feeble, passing king.

     Any other day, Eon would have been laying beside me. She would look, if you could imagine, as an angel sleeping after a bender; so peaceful and almost appearing thankful to rest at last. Her fingers were always wrung around a dirty old t-shirt covered in salt and mascara, a keepsake she affectionately called her blanky. More often than not, she would remain in bed for another hour or two after me, and dodged every attempt I made to stir her. Looking as serene as she did though, I never wanted to try very hard.

     I step into the bathroom to see a clean countertop, fresh as the day I first moved in. The door opening freely instead of being blocked by a heap of towels and clothes. I must admit I could use a little toner or moisturizer, but find nothing so I just splash water on my face instead. I notice the bathtub only contains a bar of soap, shampoo and conditioner; no fancy loofah or wash cloths, no disposable razors or exfoliating scrubs. Leaving the bathroom I find a streak of hair dye still painted on the door. I would mind more if I didn’t like the blue-black color of her hair.

     She had complained about the bathroom every day for two weeks since she moved in. When I had first arrived with Tohm, our budget was shoestring thin and the only things we owned were usually things I had pilfered from my last apartment. Sure, a dozen bars of soap was a nice thing to find as we unpacked, but impractical for doing dishes, cleaning the counters or scrubbing the toilet. We eventually ordered that giant box of cleaning supplies and essentials at her insistence, which was the only day I ever saw her clean–and that was only cause she wanted the place to be sparkling when she invited that guy over. After that, the only thing cluttering up the bathroom were the 30 or so oils and balms, strange tinctures and elixirs, the array of make up and applicators, and a handful of brushes and curling irons she never bothered to put away.

     The living room is bare. I can’t see any dishes or mugs laying about the room, no wine glasses or cups half full. No array of bottles or cans standing at attention. The instruments are properly stored, not left lying on the couch in a stack of papers and disks. There aren’t several books pulled out and lying after answering a question or being used to write on. No decks of cards lay scattered after slipping off the table, no blankets and pillows fallen to the ground and no red stains on the carpet.

     Every morning, before anyone else would wake, I found myself clearing away the aftermath of the night before. I’d take trash and dirty dishes to the kitchen by the handful, making sure to rinse out any glass and aluminum before it reached the recycling bin and then load the dishwasher carelessly. Somewhere in this process I’d make enough noise to rouse the rest of the house. Tohm would take his station in the armchair and Eon would default to laying down on the couch if I was still seated on the floor at the workstation. Otherwise, she would spend more time locked in a staring contest with this glowing screen than I did, reaching out to the nets like I knew only a homesick Earthling could. I can remember laying on her spot of the couch for hours, just hoping she’d turn to say she was bored, and ask me to amuse her instead.

     The kitchen I enter is spotless as well. No condiments or spices are left on the counter, or food wrappers and disassembled packages left spent. No pile of dishes in the sink with food still stuck to them, and if there is, I can’t see it brimming over the edge of the sink basin from where I stand. There isn’t a frying pan left on the range or a cup of tea unsipped in the microwave. The fridge is closed and the butter put away. Not to mention the trash is gone and the recycling sorted and disposed of already.

     We had so much food last week, before it all got shoveled down the open mouths of three needy garbage disposals. I had always thought I was a bottomless pit, and when I moved in with Tohm, I thought he had a black hole somewhere in his lower abdomen. Eon had a conduit to another, much emptier, dimension somewhere within her core, which led to her insatiable consumption of everything in sight. I guess all three of us were very similar in this regard; I never got enough of anything which probably lead to me wanting more of everything. This was well reflected in my Earthling roommates. I loved Lou for her thirst for life.

     I stand in the living room looking out the sliding glass door, staring at the droplets of rain dancing in a pool on the balcony. Winter comes quickly on Mars, I think to myself, reflecting on the sunny days and that scorching wind we had not even a week ago. It may have driven me insane to go through the same thing every day, to endure what was dished to me by cruel nature with a dumb smile, but I liked it better before the weather turned. It’s been cold and miserable and done nothing but rain since the day she left. I was happier with her, I didn’t feel alone or even like an alien with Eon around,  I felt like I actually had an equal in this unbalanced world. So what if she drove me as crazy as the weather, she made me feel warm and loved in all her oblivious radiance.

     “You’ll do fine with out me,” she said bodaciously, “but I’m gonna miss you.” She was curled up in my arms on the bean bag, her luggage packed and ready. My finger tips scratched at the scalp behind her ears as I stared at her closed eyes in sullen silence, knowing well it was more likely going to be the other way around. The closer her departure approached, the more I dared ask her to tell me all the things she couldn’t afford to say. I knew to hear anything more from those alluring lips, or to lean in and steal a kiss from them would just hurt me that much more when I woke up the next day. Instead I swallowed my desire and closed my eyes, hugging her close. “I was probably too hasty with this choice,” she uttered at last. I began to wonder if she meant her decision to go or to live here in the first place, but down stairs in the driveway her ride honked. She kissed me with lips as soft as a cloud, then evaporated just as quickly.

     It’s a real pity. Just as I was getting used to it, the weather changed and she blew away.

«Fall Cleaning»

11-29-2308

     The doorbell rang at half past one. I was up since nine, but had been turning and tossing myself back into sleep the whole morning long. It rang once more, echoed by my sigh as I finally got out of bed and put a shirt on. I walked heavy on the floor to let the visitor know I was approaching, not even disturbing the slothy Eon, still asleep on the couch. If she had been any bit conscious she wouldn’t have let it ring twice, knowing what was on the other side of that door.

     A Martian delivery boy in brown shorts and polarized shades stood waiting with a giant package at his feet and an electronic clipboard in his hand. I greeted him and attempted to relay how important this parcel was with my excitement. He simply shrugged, zapped a barcode on the package and handed the PDT to me with the stylus. Giving the best pixel signature I could muster, I returned it and thanked him, then grabbed the 40 pound box, lifted it over head and proceeded to dance about the living room, shouting ‘It’s Here!’ over and over.

     “Don’t open it without me, dude,” Lou muttered lazily as she squinted at me through those morning-heavy eyelids. I simply nodded and set it down next to the couch and ran to get Tohm up so he wouldn’t miss the greatest day our apartment had ever seen. Well, second to that time we got a fridge.

     Once the house was fully assembled and half-awake, I took a pair of scissors and dissected the corrugated box. I snatched the packing list off the top and handed Todd the sheet of bubble wrap. We all exclaimed in glee as I revealed the goodies hiding underneath.

     Since we possessed no income other than what our parents could afford to slip onto our plastic from Earth, and my father gave me access to some of his accounts without giving me a hardware copy of the card, we had to order a lot of things online. We had survived off having food delivered to a card I didn’t actually own for a week at a time, but what this box contained was more vital to us than any amount of pizza or Saturnian take-out.

     I began to dismantle the box, checking off each item on the packing list, the pen I just opened to do this was the first to go. A collapsible broom, cheap plastic duster and toilet brush came out, followed by surface cleaner, carpet cleaner, windex and bleach. A curling iron, set of razors, pack of sponges and replacement water filters were decedent indulgences compared to the shampoo, conditioner and body wash that came next. The only thing left in the box were an assortment of non-perishable instant meals. It was like Christmas, but better.

     “Alright, I’m getting a load of laundry ready and then I’m cleaning the bathroom,” Eon stated with newfound zeal as she stood, grabbing the detergent and a roll of paper towels from the pile of our ill-gotten gains.

     “I’m doin’ the kitchen. You start your clothes and I’ll get mine done after we get cash from the recycling,” I said grabbing a box of large clear trash bags. “Tohm, wanna gimmie a hand in there?”

     “First things first,” he almost shushed me as he reached for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of the pile.

«←→»

     We unloaded four bags of glass and aluminum from the trunk of my crawler, and the box that came today, also full of bottles, from the back seat. The recycling shack was in the middle of a drug store parking lot, the solitary Martian posted there diligently weighing all sorts of beverage containers before dumping them into larger bags or smaller compactors. He slid a couple of large rubber garbage bins to us as they became available, working his way through a young Saturnian girl, a Venusian guy and a lady from Earth before it was our turn. Tohm and I tore open the bags and emptied the bottles and cans into separate containers. We handed over one bin of aluminum and had two of glass, full up and ready to go.

     “Oh, sorry. We no take glass. All full,” he said to us, a little too late, as he motioned to the shack, as if he really had to fit all the materials inside of it.

     “You’re gorking kidding me,” Tohm screamed irately. “Well is there anywhere we can dump these around here, then?” The Martian just shook his head. Tohm stared at me frustrated, then asked the worker “Any other places we could take these bottles?”

     “Oh yeah, 19th street,” He said, immediately turning his attention to more valuable customers. Tohm and I looked at each other and shrugged, knowing we should have gone there in the first place. We did our best to get the bottles back in my trunk with the shreds of bags and the cardboard box and drove across to the other side of Costa Mensa.

     19th street was a much more grand operation than the last dump. In a grocery store parking lot near my favorite bar, half a dozen workers next to a trailer processed the recyclables supplied by a never ending line of single mothers, teenage boys and bag ladies, every last one of them with pointy ears and antennae. We were pleased to see them taking bins full of bottles here and got ours out of the crawler. 

     “You guys are still collecting these right?” I asked with the heavy box in my arms. I almost wanted to throw them at his head when he shook it and pointed to a sign posted on the trailer. Probably the most straightforward help we’d gotten all day, it informed us that we had to separate the bottles into green, clear and brown glass, which didn’t seem that great an obstacle. Then the sign says ‘Due to complaints from the grocery staff, customers are not permitted to sort out their recycling in the parking lot’. Tohm and I stared at each other dumbfounded and suddenly wanted a cigarette. We asked three other workers and the manager if we could just do it real quick, but each of them simply said no and pointed to the damnable placard.

     We resisted the urge to flip them the bird and leave our mess in their way, though it killed us inside. Instead we drove to the other side of the parking lot and sorted it all in less than a minute. At this point it didn’t matter what hoops we had to jump through, I wanted fresh towels and fresh clothes to greet me when I finish using my fresh products in my fresh shower. We smiled as the boss handed us a stack of singles and some change, then got in the car and drove home as fast as we could. We were sure, after taking an hour to refund our past month of partying, that the house would be sparkling clean when we got back. I couldn’t know what mess awaited me there.

«Everyone Comes Here»

11-25-2308

     I wished goodbye to my three Earthling neighbors as they left my apartment. Then, after shaking my head in amusement, I turned to sit and light a Martian Spirit, almost choking as I took that first drag. I pulled up my scarf, leaned back and closed my eyes to the night’s brisk coastal wind as I pondered.

     In the two years I’ve lived here, I don’t believe I’ve ever been drawn to any group of people as much as those not from this place. Whether my friends were Venusian, Saturnian or Jovian, it never mattered as long as they were not a native born Martian. Within the past few months, though, I’ve noticed a startling empathy for the people of my world, Earth.

     They say birds of a feather flock together, and I could never have denied my attraction to like-minded individuals, especially ones who’ve felt just as lonely and alien on this planet as I. Somehow we could tell, there was just a raw magnetism between our kind, and I found it more than coincidence that every time I’d end up vibing off someone I had a conversation with, they turned out to be from home or Luna almost every time.

     My roommate, Tohm, was a lanky Earthling from New Tros who came out to Mars, ironically, to sober up 2 years ago. Our neighbor, Charae, was a stacked Lunarian that wanted to be a wealthy star but ended up a weekend dancer instead. Duke, a friend I still had from my last job, was born in Earth’s cold north and never complained about the weather here, though his family was from one of Saturn’s more tropical moons. Allan may have been the only Martian on the planet I didn’t want to bludgeon yet.

     What I found absolutely tickling, though, were the amount of people I’d run into not just from earth, but from the suburbs of DT where I grew up. A week after I moved to Costa Mensa I helped a group of girls carry furniture into our apartment complex. Justene was born in Chesapeake and lived in Dominia until she was three, and Manna was born and raised just down the street from me in McLean, leaving the Earth about the same time I did. Eon, of course, was a high school friend that came to Mars 6 months ago who now, by some sort of luck, came to be my second roommate two weeks ago. Manna even knew little Lou, having been a friend of her poor brother. 

     A half dozen other friends already came and went, either back to Earth or on through the rest of the solar system. And I asked everyone I knew the same question, why did you want to come to Mars? Startled, I found out each person had a very similar reason to mine.

     Everyone came here to follow a dream, whether it was success or fame, wealth or power, or just taking control of the life that was rightfully theirs. Each person felt like they’d never have accomplished their goals where they were, and some light drew them in to this place like a co-dependant moth. Everyone held this magical esteem of Mars, be it projected upon us by movies or teli, handed off from the prosperous antenna-clad travelers who came to Earth, or if it was just a figment of our collective imagination.

     I never gave up the hope that I would achieve what I set out to do here, but I’ve conceded that I may need to start on the other side of the planet. I snuffed the cig out and went back inside to discuss travel with Tohm and Eon.

     I wished goodbye to my three Earthling neighbors as they left my apartment. Then, after shaking my head in amusement, I turned to sit and light a Martian Spirit, almost choking as I took that first drag. I pulled up my scarf, leaned back and closed my eyes to the night’s brisk coastal wind as I pondered.

     In the two years I’ve lived here, I don’t believe I’ve ever been drawn to any group of people as much as those not from this place. Whether my friends were Venusian, Saturnian or Jovian, it never mattered as long as they were not a native born Martian. Within the past few months, though, I’ve noticed a startling empathy for the people of my world, Earth.

     They say birds of a feather flock together, and I could never have denied my attraction to like-minded individuals, especially ones who’ve felt just as lonely and alien on this planet as I. Somehow we could tell, there was just a raw magnetism between our kind, and I found it more than coincidence that every time I’d end up vibing off someone I had a conversation with, they turned out to be from home or Luna almost every time.

     My roommate, Tohm, was a lanky Earthling from New Tros who came out to Mars, ironically, to sober up 2 years ago. Our neighbor, Charae, was a stacked Lunarian that wanted to be a wealthy star but ended up a weekend dancer instead. Duke, a friend I still had from my last job, was born in Earth’s cold north and never complained about the weather here, though his family was from one of Saturn’s more tropical moons. Allan may have been the only Martian on the planet I didn’t want to bludgeon yet.

     What I found absolutely tickling, though, were the amount of people I’d run into not just from earth, but from the suburbs of DT where I grew up. A week after I moved to Costa Mensa I helped a group of girls carry furniture into our apartment complex. Justene was born in Chesapeake and lived in Dominia until she was three, and Manna was born and raised just down the street from me in McLean, leaving the Earth about the same time I did. Eon, of course, was a high school friend that came to Mars 6 months ago who now, by some sort of luck, came to be my second roommate two weeks ago. Manna even knew little Lou, having been a friend of her poor brother. 

     A half dozen other friends already came and went, either back to Earth or on through the rest of the solar system. And I asked everyone I knew the same question, why did you want to come to Mars? Startled, I found out each person had a very similar reason to mine.

     Everyone came here to follow a dream, whether it was success or fame, wealth or power, or just taking control of the life that was rightfully theirs. Each person felt like they’d never have accomplished their goals where they were, and some light drew them in to this place like a co-dependant moth. Everyone held this magical esteem of Mars, be it projected upon us by movies or teli, handed off from the prosperous antenna-clad travelers who came to Earth, or if it was just a figment of our collective imagination.

     I never gave up the hope that I would achieve what I set out to do here, but I’ve conceded that I may need to start on the other side of the planet. I snuffed the cig out and went back inside to discuss travel with Tohm and Eon.

«Respite»

06-06-2308

     It was about 3 in the morning when I stepped out for a cigarette. I didn’t have a watch but I knew because the second sprinklers were going. I was smoking out front this time so the soft projectiles were begging at my slip-ons. Ever since Pashan left on vacation 2 weeks ago I’d been spending a lot more time downstairs where its more hospitable than my room. He’d be on Europa, his home, for another month and a half so I could enjoy respite from the first hot weeks of summer in our uninsulated unit.

     I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding this thing for a while, a whole month to be exact. I’ve been distracted with not doing a whole lot. Well, let me rephrase: I haven’t been doing much physically–a lot of sitting w/ a book in my hand or a texti to my ear. You see a friend of mine has come from Earth and has been living in the city for a few weeks now, so you can understand my absence.

     Eon Beurot came to Mars to escape herself, or rather what she had become. We had never been the closest of friends in school, but whenever we did hang out I remember enjoying it immensely. Since forever ago, she insisted that people call her Lou, or Onny, or anything but her real name because she doesn’t like the way it sounds. But I do, and always have, so I call her Eon anyway. I remember us having had deep respect for each others work–mine visual, hers literary–and we always wished we had gotten to know each other better. Sometime after I graduated we lost contact and I slipped into chemical haze for the next year before I moved to Fender. Following a tragic event around the same time, she embarked upon her own inebriated odyssey.

     The winds took her all across the Earth, though she never had the pleasure of settling for longer than a few months before another gust came to uproot her. A couple jobs and a fiance later, they brought her to rest at last upon the rusted face of Mars. And if it weren’t for social network applications and their obnoxious sharing of every detail committed by you to your entire network, I’d have never noticed she arrived here.

     Let me just start out by saying it is so nice to have a like minded person to relate to in a foreign place like this. What a relief to see someone from home has arrived in this strange place, right? After that, I should mention that I have had the bigges–Ehrr–sorry, I’m buzzing, I have to get it.

     I’ll get back to this soon.