John knelt beside Eugenia, unsure if he could ever get up again, or if he should just stay here, lie down and wait until he too was no more. For he saw no point in existing without her. The path of his life lead him here, this was where it ended; there was nowhere else to run to. So he covered her hands with his, bowed his head so their foreheads touched, closed his eyes and began, much to his own surprise, to pray.
The change was barely susceptible at first. He wondered how long he had been hearing it already. Voices filling his mind. Soft and distant, but growing louder, more chaotic. Hundreds of them, all at once, randomly zipping in and out of his head. The cacophony was unbearable—and yet there was more and more with every heartbeat. The voices were but one facet of a whole orchestra of sounds and feelings that swept through his entire body. He felt everything. More than that—he was everything. Everything and everyone at once. He was every tree that stretched its branches towards the sun; every droplet of water that rushed through the streams; every root that slumbered in the soil. He heard the buzz of every insect, the growl of every hound, the hopes of every person in the village. He heard children run around with bare feet, so fast it was impossible to keep up. He heard the gurgle the sea makes when the wind softly tugs at its surface; the low hiss of a flower opening its petals in the sunlight; the wet smack of a ripe fruit falling to the ground.
Everything happened at once.
It took a while until he was able to bring at least some order into it all. He sorted the sounds, the noises and the voices; separated his own feelings from those around him. Only when he had done that did he notice something else. Underlying everything there was a steady, deep hum; not unlike the beating of a heart. One long pulse, followed by two short ones. He felt it rather than heard it as it reverberated through his bones; old and content, slow and satisfied. A soft gasp escaped his lips when he realized what it must be—the heartbeat of the creature who slept beneath the planet’s surface.
“You stayed.”
This time the words weren’t an echo in his mind. They were spoken out loud. They startled him out of his trance-like concentration. There was no doubt who had said them, he didn’t have to open his eyes to see her. Her image was so vivid in his mind; all her feelings, thoughts, hopes and wishes made her stand before his mind’s eye as he had never seen her before. He opened his eyes, just to make sure, and there she lay before him in the ever changing, glistening light of life, as if no harm had ever come to her. The cheeks pale, the eyes bright, the lips rosy; a beautiful constant in the never ending maelstrom of noise that was filling up his head.
“Does it ever stop?” asked he, certain she would know what he was talking about.
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Her voice wafted towards him, so much clearer than all the other voices combined, “Close your eyes for a bit. It will help your headache.”
He did. It was still a lot to take in. But he had a long time to learn. She took his hand. “It feels so good to be home.”
“It does indeed,” he agreed.
He helped her up at last, and together they stood, arm in arm, and watched the life that unfolded around them at a dizzying speed. Complete serenity washed over him as he realized he had indeed come home. It wasn’t where his path ended, it was merely where it changed direction. Life was just beginning for them.
They closed their eyes and listened.
* * * *
Chapter 51: Into the Light
No longer in need of a shield to protect them from the atmosphere on Earth, the set of government buildings outside Rome, known as Wormhole HQ, bathed in the afternoon sun. The sky was spotlessly blue, almost turquoise and the sun’s rays were warm and lush.
It was only the fourth day since the climate had so rapidly changed, and people were still in awe of it all. Engineers, assistants, administrators, even Bob from the cafeteria—everyone was outside, walking on the luscious, green lawn, just relishing the light, the warmth and the soft, warm wind in their hair.
The only two people not outside were, in fact, Tom and Phil deLuca, who were suspicious of sunlight. They preferred the iridescent glow of their computer screens. They stayed cooped up in their lab, played their games and, every once in a while, checked the wormhole connection, which was as stable as never before. Whatever minuscule movements Earth and Alternearth made previously had stopped. The two planets were in absolute synchrony. So that was one task off their to-do list. Which, as a result, meant: more time for the two geniuses to play their favorite game.
THE END
* * * *
ABOUT LESKA BEIRKIRCHER
Offspring of an Italian/German family in Germany, Leska attended a Catholic all girls school before going on to university to get a degree in Japanese. She lived and worked in Japan for a year as a kindergarten teacher, then underwent teacher and theatre pedagogics training. She is currently a classroom teacher in Alaska.
She told stories even before she could write them down, and was always fascinated by words and language (according to trustworthy sources, a.k.a. parents). As far as the written word is concerned, nothing is safe from her—novels, drabbles, poems, plays, scripts; she tries everything at least once.
Her passions include tea parties, all things edible (first and foremost chocolate), science-fiction in any form, researching, and snow.
When Leska isn't in front of a class teaching, or working on another novel, you're most likely to find her at home, daydreaming about other worlds. Her lifelong dream: Produce her own TV Series and write blockbuster screenplays for Steven Spielberg!
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small electronic press specializing in gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender fiction (including erotica, romance, and young adult), as well as popular and literary fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. While our preference is for GLBT stories, we accept stories containing any and all sexualities, as well as general fiction without a romantic subplot. Visit our site at jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
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