The Girl

Background: This is the sixteenth story in a series.

…

Exactly fifty-three minutes ago, she had been afraid.

She’d had a job, friends, dreams, goals… desires. Those things — everything, she believed, that comprised ‘her’ — had seemed so important.

Roughly a minute later, there had been a man, inscrutable but kind; ancient, clothed in dark blue tones. She had never seen him before that moment, though instantly recognized him. Lost memories had returned to her; some which might have taken weeks to put into words. A knowledge that she volunteered for something important, something more important than what most people did in Compression Fields.

She had asked for an hour; the man had obliged.

In this moment, looking back, it all seemed like a life ago. She knew the girl who had sprinted through most of her gift was not the one who stood here now, watching a very confused — vagrant? hobo? “other”? — offering to hide her.

She knew also that he was dealing with something more profound than one’s last hour.

“What do you mean, hide together?”

“If you hide here,” said the anomaly, “They can’t find you easily.” He spread his arms, gesturing at the world. “I can hide you here. But only if you want to.” He twitched again; for the first time, she understood why.

“Why are you hiding?” she asked again, softly.

He thought about it for a long time.