Home on Valentines

FICTION: There is nowhere to go when home is nowhere to be found.

An electronic chatter and then a ping that nearly caused him to spill the coffee into his priceless storage cube was all it took to bring the pain back in full. He'd nearly forgotten how this piece of tech was worth many times more than the money he sank into it. It was more — extremely more.

A message icon popped into his screen causing his eyes to dart to the scanner. There was nothing there, but a message, nevertheless, appeared, out of nowhere.

He looked out the dark horizon. All was quiet. He was alone. Yes, he was alone. He didn't think he would be, but he was. Now, the only thing he could hope for was to be left alone, but he wavered.

"Is that really what I wanted?" his lips tightened.

The air was musty and metallic. He gazed around his surroundings, his eyes tracing along the edges and form of the large metallic cocoon he inhabited. Traces of time like that of ruins have began to appear in cracks and spots, but he didn't care. No, not at all. Drifting without any destination was not what he had in mind. No, it wasn't what they had in mind from the beginning, and yet, here he was stranded on the dark shores of endless space — alone.

He tried to cry but the tears would not fall. ‘How long has it been?’ he wondered brushing aside the solitary sweat that had rolled down his left temple.

‘The air control system must not be working’ he thought. He pushed his chair to the right, opened a panel, and looked at the old switchboard that badly needed polishing. A mocking reflection of his life — faded, slowly dripping into oblivion like his soul. There was a notice while a warning indicator flashed red. Dangerously low.

"This is it" he mumbled.

He couldn't very well forgive himself for what he had done. What he couldn't do. This is for the best. He tried convincing himself of that ever since that day he lost her. That singular memory that kept haunting him, hounding him through the seemingly endless days.

"Damn it" he cursed under his breath.

"Why now? Of all times... just when I was ready"

Closing his eyes, he drank the meager old air and opened the message on the screen. It was a haiku, followed by a brief message.

"She'd always loved poetry" he muttered to himself.

He began to read.

Valentine

Heartbeats synced in one rhythm

Eyes that held one gaze

Whispered words left unspoken

He paused to smile. A bittersweet smile. "God, he missed her so much..." before he continued to read.

Come back home.

I'll be waiting for you.

Droplets began to pour unto the stainless steel table as he found himself crying the tears he'd held for so long. He curled his hands into fists.

"I wish I could...but where is home?"

He looked towards the dark horizon of space. Nothing but debris, rock, and burnt bodies... Forever asleep, floating, perpetually stranded like his ship.

He shouldn't have left her alone.

‘Why was he was stupidly on the docking port?’

He remembered. He was doing maintenance on their little nest. Their ship. Something they had called their home. He should have been with her that day. It was Valentine's, her birthday. He was going to surprise her with the changes he's made. She'd been with her family, her friends...he had none. He did care, if only a little, for the rest, enough to smile and keep the platitudes pleasant upon chance encounters. It was never to the same depth as with her. It made him realized that in the end he cared for no one but her...

He looked to his storage cube and remembered the moment the blast came. How it all went so fast that it triggered the automated mechanism of the ship — their ship — to shut its doors, sealing him to his fate.

He uncurled his hands and looked at the burnt marks left by the heat of the fire that broke out before his ship automatically engaged the emergency protocols.

"What good was that?" he bit his lips angered by the memory of his rescue.

Despite being spared from the horrid disaster, he lost her...the ship was damaged and so was he. He tried to repair it, hoping to recover bodies, bring them home but the ship's engine was severely impacted by the blast. Just as he was. Just as they were... He’d only manage to move it close at bay towards the wreckage. Anchored to the scene of misery. To her grave.

There is nothing now except the memories in the storage cube. That's where they live. Where he wants to live.

"But how?". He looked at the message, staring blankly, wielding it to spill its secrets. He examined the headers and tried to trace its source but there was nothing there, nothing to pinpoint towards it origins.

‘Am I hallucinating?’ he wondered.

He lifted the storage cube, inserting it into a hollowed ingress that lit. The projector behind him turned on to display holographic images above his screen. Photos, mostly of her, with her family, with her friends, then to pictures of them. He clicked on one file on his screen and the video played like a haunting recreation of a time they both shared alone on the gallery that had a wide view into distant space . They had been entranced by the enormity of space and was discussing how strange it was to fear and be in awe of it all the same. To be enclosed in darkness with bits of scattered light that defied the unknown and gave beauty to the empty void. She looked radiant against the faded stars in the backdrop when she spoke "I nearly forgot”, she giggled, her soft dark curls bounced. “Welcome back home", she extended her arms in a welcoming embrace.

"Home? Where is home?", he found himself asking once more, his gaze lost in the 3d holographic image frozen in time, her welcoming embrace almost seemingly real.

The old switchboard to his right, flashed red in panic but he did not see that. He kept staring at the image in front of him then his vision grew blurry and he felt a stifling pressure inside his skull. A phantom voice called to him as sudden as a bright light enveloped the space and touched him. He felt lighter as if all the burden had all gone away. His hands went limp. A smile slowly faded from his old weathered face as his body grew colder. His eyes captured the holographic image which briefly changed; interrupted into maniacal brush stroked pixels before playing the few frames seconds before.

"Welcome back home" and the image died off.

The room was quiet, growing colder with each background hum. A new sound broke the eerie stillness. A whirring static electric chatter and then a ping.

A new message icon popped and by some strange phantom, the message opened.

It read.

Photo by Belinda Fewings on Unsplash

---

Authors note:

Go spend each chance you get with the people you care about and live a life with less regrets.