Life..?

  The almost empty bottle of alcohol slipped from her fingers and crashed below her, on top of the massive rocks that formed the beach in that part of the port. It wasn’t an area to go an have fun of anything, rather a place for people who loved seafood to go and have a delicious dish of crab, lobster, fish or any other creature from the sea. The small pier on which Cynthia was seating, her legs dangling like she used to do when she was younger, was located in a part closed to the public, far from the restaurants and the bustling ambiance of the now exclusive and upscale area of commerce that was located a few steps away.

 Where she was, she could hear the ocean crashing softly against the rocks and then pull back and then crash the rocks again. She found that beautiful sound to be very soothing, especially at that precise moment of her life when she was feeling cornered by thoughts and things that were happening all around her. She knew the place from one time she had been invited to a party there and now she looked at the pieces of glasses on the rocks, as if they had the answer to all of her problems. And apparently, the answer was to open up the other bottle she kept on her coat and start drinking again, no regrets at all.

 Cynthia had never really been a lover of alcohol but it felt soothing for that moment to do something like that. She wasn’t into drugs or anything like that, having a crippling fear of dying from an overdose, so she would more often than not go to her nearest store and buy a couple of middle-sized bottles of alcohol, which she could feet nicely into her large winter coat. And it was that, the weather during that time of year, that made it all the more perfect. She knew it was the perfect way for her to handle what was going on and she wouldn’t let anyone else decide for her what to do or how to do it.

 As she took a good sip of the clear liquid in the bottle, she paid special attention to a fishing vessel entering the port. She was certain no one could see her there, on the spot she had chosen to be in, but realized it would be very annoying to have someone come and stop her from going on and on with that part of her life. Because that’s what it had become: alcohol had become the perfect gateway “drug” to make her feel a little less, something she really needed each time she was reminded of her past but also her present and the prospects her future held. Everything in life triggered her and made her unable to respond normally to anything.

 The fishing boat passed and Cynthia waved at it, already a bit drunk from the alcohol but also because of the cold. She closed her coat a little bit more, realizing she had chosen an especially cold evening to go out and sit over the ocean. But the truth was that she had never “chosen” such a place or such an activity. It was only the thing she could do without feeling she was doing the wrong thing or acting in an undesirable manner. She wasn’t a mess there, by herself.

  It was also easy to hear the screams and laughter coming from the people in the restaurants, but Cynthia tried hard not to pay attention. One reason was that she didn’t really liked any of the people that visited such places. They were mostly snobbish, the type of folk that don’t even realize people don’t normally have the kind of money to dine in such places every single night. That was exactly what she realized the day she was invited to a party there and soon realized how much of a mistake it had been to attend that event, at that time and in that place. It was all wrong and there was no real way to mend it.

She made everyone feel uncomfortable and the only thing she won out of that experience was the fact that she was very clear on how other people perceived her and what she didn’t really like about all of them. She was one of those people that don’t really mind what you say about them or how you say it, or at least they seem to not care at all. That’s way her appearance in that party was such a disaster, even if other things were feeling as if they had been improving in her life for quite some time. But those awful moments of social awkwardness made everything feel worse and seem worse, and she didn’t really need that.

 When she finished the bottle, she dropped it intentionally over the rocks, applauding loudly when the glass shattered and pieces flew all over the place, to the ocean, over the algae and on the rock. No one appeared after she had clapped. Maybe no one cared or maybe she had a way with the city and its strange places, but her next move was to go back to the mainland and try to exit the area without anyone looking at her. She was successful, after avoiding to look back on her way to the exit. Once there, she walked, cold and shaking but feeling a bit better. The cold wind on her cheeks was apparently doing wonders too.

 She sat at the bus stop and realized she was a bit tipsy. She looked around, and realized her only other companion was a very elderly woman who didn’t even have a reason to be walking around so late in such a remote place. Cynthia looked at her and tried to guess if she was actually younger than she seemed or if she seemed to be into the kind of things that hip people liked doing over there. She didn’t have much choice anyway, as the bus appeared soon and they both entered. Cynthia sat behind the driver and the old lady walked very slowly to a seat by the middle of the bus. Maybe she was buying something she wasn’t supposed to.

When Cynthia got home, she felt really dizzy and also very tired. She dropped on her bed in two seconds after she had arrived and realized, in a moment, that she was drunk and that she hated most of the people with whom she interacted ever. Everyone including doctors, shrinks, supposed friends and family and all other people that always try for you to have the life that they want for you, instead of the want for yourself. She really hated them, with feeling.  

 She then decided to strip for bed and stood in front of the mirror, looking at her almost naked body. Cynthia was not a supermodel but she wasn’t the ugliest woman in the world, she was fine. But she didn’t have much else aside a degree she never used and a lot of debt towards her parents. She was one of those so-called “leeches” that live in their parents’ home for years and never really go. Her fortieth birthday seemed close, even if it wasn’t going to happen for some more years. It was pressing on her, her mind and the body she was looking at.

 It was obvious that she didn’t really feel great about all of that but even so she got herself into a pajama and then into bed. She heard her parents entering the house right when she was about to fall asleep. It was nice she had chosen that precise night to be able to come back without her parents being there and asking something about her life or, much worse, not saying anything but giving her looks and glances, certain attitudes too, that made her realize what she already knew. But how the overcome the fact that she was a non- achiever?

 How was she supposed to overcome the fact that she was just one person, unable to change the world around her? That’s why she needed to drink, why she really needed to have a proper reaction to everything happening around her. She could just be there and take it or end it all in two seconds. Neither of those two options was an actual option, she didn’t have access to any of them. So, she had to endure and keep at it until something happened. But it had a toll on her and maybe that one would be the last straw for her and her consciousness. She knew very well she was not the kind of person to hold for years and years.

 Cynthia often found herself looking up at her ceiling, wondering about all of those people she had met at least once. She wondered about their lives, their success and their stories of greatness and achievements. And she felt so tremendously alone after that. She remembered the times she had borrowed money from her father to pay for a quality education and it had all amounted to nothing. They didn’t really say it but she knew, deep that, that it was the case.

 So every night was a struggle and every new day felt as one more iron ball had been put in a jar representing her life. It got heavier and heavier, never easy to properly carry around.

Lonely in the deep

   Dear Susan,

 I have grown accustomed to the glares and glimmers on the glasses all around the station. I know I told you I would never be able to live here, in a fish bowl with such a small amount of people. There are none of those lively parties in which we met so many other people that we then considered friends and now are nothing but shadows that don’t even care about me or where I am. Have they even asked you for news? I know they haven’t.

 In away, I’m happy to be here, so far from any of their shit and fake attitudes. I was growing annoyed of them all. I guess I never told you, but being here by myself has made me able to see what I couldn’t see before: I was getting surrounded by people and I never stopped to think if they really care about me or about whatever I had to say. It’s amazing how looking at the emptiness of space can change your perception on everything.

 Susan, my lovely Susan, you know I cannot be anything but honest with you. You were there right at the start, when I got married to him and we begin this rollercoaster life that the astronauts live. Remember when we read about those ladies back in the twentieth century, the ones with all those dead husbands in the pursuit of the Moon dream? I was shocked by how strong they were, how resistant and tragic their lives were.

 And now, we are them my dear. We have become the spouses of men that risk their lives every day and we have grown numb to the risks they take. I have to confess that I prevent him from telling me what he does every day. I know he has to do spacewalks and tough jobs on and above the planetoid, but knowing exactly about it all would make me feel I really have no control over anything, which is true but I don’t want to keep thinking about it.

 How’s Brian doing? Here I go, writing on and on about me and the crazy astronaut I married and I haven’t asked you a thing about how things are going on there. Has he been selected for a new project? I head he did great on that vessel towards the Benu asteroid. Such a scary ride! You must have been destroyed by that. You should write much more often, we did promise we would write and practice our calligraphy, remember?

 It seems like a stupid promise to make but I think it has helped both of us. It really does help that I use this paper imported by the Europeans and the ink brought by the Chinese to write these letters that take days to arrive.

 What’s new here besides my ongoing craziness? Well, not too much to be honest. I think they’ve discovered something here on the planetoid, some kind of new metal to use in the construction of the stations and the ships but you know that I don’t really know a lot about those things. I bought a ton of books and magazines to keep myself entertained as well as movies and TV shows. There’s one about the lives of oil rig workers that I’m really enjoying, although it can be a bit slow at times.

 I sometimes think of fun stuff to do here, like romantic dinners and movie nights with him. I do try to keep it interesting doing different things for him, but its always very sad when he leaves and I’m alone for many days in a row. It’s nice to hug him and feel he’s mine for that moment. But I do know now that I have never really been in power to do anything about this, about our relationship and everything related to it. I’m just here and that is all I can say for now. See why I’m kind of sad these days?

 When I’m done doing the dishes, I like watching the Sun from our living room. It looks so small and distant, it makes me remember those summer days when I was young and had no idea about anything. Not that I know things right now, but back then I felt really small and innocent. It all felt as if it was new and beautiful. Somehow, I think that has disappeared forever from my life. Nothing feels new or beautiful anymore; it just feels like something else to be scared about, something else to take my life away somehow.

 I love him, I do. But I often think about the things that could’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten married to him, if I could’ve continued my studies and my projects instead of following him all over the place. Yes, other spouses do things and have their own lives but I don’t feel there was ever a place for me in this world. After all, you know very well I’m an artist, one that needs specific things to survive and to create. And those things cannot happen here, or at least, I don’t think they can.

 Well, I don’t want this letter to turn into something like a long list of complaints or something of the sort. You know well that I do love to complain about anything and everything, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to do it so often. I’ve even complained to people I don’t really know that well.

Yes, I tour the station sometimes and talk with some people; those that still think this is a fun ride. And we talk for a while but most of them are engineers and physicists and astronomers, so I don’t really have words for them to hear or interesting viewpoints to discuss with any of them.

 I think my best friend here is the station cat called Philomena. I have no idea who named her and brought her to this place. But we play sometimes and she makes me feel that I’m not yet losing my mind. She purrs and lot and that’s always comforting somehow, like those electric blankets we love.

 Anyway, this is it from me. I would love to read back from you. You can even call me and I will show you the place on the video feed. Just… Just don’t disappear like all the others did. I beg of you not to do that. Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but I had to say it.

 Well, big hug from this cold place.

 Talk to you soon,

 R.

Ode to Pamela

   Plants are not fun, or that’s what most people think about them. They just think flowers are nice because of the colors but that’s it, they don’t see anything beyond it. Patricia did. She had always seen something in the botanical world that had attracted her. Maybe it was because those creatures didn’t have a voice, they weren’t able to scream and say what they felt or what they wanted. Mysteries wrapped them and made them something that was so near but also very far.

 So Patricia studied botany for years and she travelled the world getting masters degrees and doctorates, studying with the greatest scientific minds in order to learn more and more about her favorite living things. And then, it dawned on her, that she couldn’t just investigate and look at the plants from afar. She really needed to spend time in the field, discovering new types of plants and designing ways to better protect the one that people knew about. She thought about this day and night, for a long time.

 That was, until she met the person that could help her achieve what she wanted. Her name was Hayley and she also had a special love for plants. They met in a conference about roses and other flowers and were surprised how much the other one knew about those creatures. They even had fun quizzing each other about their favorite species and telling very interesting tales about the discovery of some plant or flower. They enjoyed the conference more than anyone else that year.

 They promised to be in touch and it was very soon after that when Hayley invited Patricia to a trip to the Philippines. Apparently, a team of many scientists would visit one of the country’s most remote islands, one were many people said an incredible number of new species of animals and plants could live. The island was relatively small and was protected by the government because it was one of the many islands forming a very large protected area. But this was the first time they would allow people to go in.

 Patricia had her doubts. If she had to be honest with herself, she wasn’t the kind of person to love dirt and hot temperatures. She didn’t even like taking transportation in order to go anywhere. She got annoyed in taxis, as well as in planes or boats. It wasn’t only that she got dizzy; it was also that she disliked having to interact with people that she didn’t particularly care about. Hayley had been a real exception and she finally decided to go only because she thought having Hayley around would be a good thing if she felt she couldn’t stand anything anymore.

 Before departing for the Philippines, both women met and had a blast together. Not only they enjoyed discussing plants again, they also went shopping for appropriate clothes for the trip and even had time to eat, drink and watch a movie together. They really got along very well. The only difference between them was that Hayley loved people and was, apparently, a big partier. She would sometimes talk about it but, as she soon learned, Patricia was not of her same perception so she limited those subjects.

 The day before departing Hayley promised Patricia that she would take care of her and that if she had any problems with any other person, she could come to her and tell her all about it. Patricia was so thankful for that kind attitude that she decided to buy a nice little present for her trip companion at the airport. She gave it to Hayley on the plane, hours after take off. It was a nice little pendant with a rose pendant. Hayley was so surprised; she just gave Patricia a big hug, which surprised her. But she didn’t push back.

 In Manila, they met the rest of the team, mostly composed by men. Some were going to the island to look for minerals and others were biologists hoping to find the creature that would put them in history books. Also a couple of geologists joined them, intrigued by the many tectonic faults plaguing the island. Patricia got nervous when she heard about that, but tried to remain strong because everyone else seemed so put together and committed, and she didn’t wanted to be the only one freaking out.

 On the next plane, Hayley sat far from her, as the seats had been assigned prior to them getting to the airport. So she had to sit with a big guy that sweated a lot and loved to talk about rocks and not much more. They only chit chatted for a bit before the man turned to the other side and decided the person on that side was much more interesting and willing to connect than Patricia. She felt really bad but thought the best thing to do was to try and sleep a bit before having to board the boat, the final leg of the route to the island.

 When they got off the plane, the heat was incredible. Patricia tried to refresh herself with some wet towels but that wasn’t enough. Actually, it made no sense to spend any time trying to get rid of the sweat because each step anyone took on that tarmac meant at least a hundred drops of sweat would roll down their foreheads. So they just followed their guide to the terminal, then to a van than took them to a pier and finally into a boat that was much too tiny to carry so many people. Patricia was really having second thought about coming on that trip but she couldn’t say it out loud.

 As the sun would set soon, their guide told them they would not be going to the actual island that day but to the one just in front of it, were their cabins had been built by the government. Of course, when they got there, the rooms had no air conditioning and the beds were into precisely meant for hotels and resorts. The bathrooms were also awful and they didn’t have much to cook, as provisions had not arrived from Manila.

 So dinner that night was made of cold sandwiches with water. Everyone was so happy that night, around a big table, eating and joking and telling stories. Hayley sat by Patricia all the time but she seemed so much more into the whole interacting thing. Patricia would just sit there and stare at people as they said whatever it was that they said and then she would attempt to laugh or at least smile, but most of the times it just seemed as if had some kind of stomach pain. So she soon left for her room.

 Sleeping was impossible. Partly because of the noise the rest of the people were making but also because of the heat. She had attempted to cover herself with a very thin sheet but even that made her feel she was going to get stuck to it. So she decided not covering herself and sleeping only in her underwear. It was the most comfortable, even if she wasn’t very keen to sleep like that with so many bugs floating around. A couple of hours later, she was finally able to fall asleep.

 She knew she wasn't sleeping to well because she had one of those vivid dreams, when you’re very aware of everything that’s happening. She moved around a lot in the dream and also imagined she was in the middle of a jungle. Weirdly enough, the jungle was less humid and hot, so she felt cozy and a bit less uncomfortable. She felt watched by something, or maybe someone, but no one was around here and that’s when she woke up and realized she was not inside her cabin anymore. She was outside.

 As in her dream, Patricia was deep in the jungle, where it was colder and nicer in general. But she was scared. Why was she there? Had she walked in her sleep, away from the compound? She stood up and started running, hoping to be just a few meters away from everyone else.

 But she ran to the beach and realized, horrified, that she could see the lights of the compound across the water, on an island across it. Somehow, Patricia had ended up in the place where they were supposed to discover new species. But maybe the biggest discovery would be something much less easy to explain or understand.