Last Call

The three blocks to his apartment felt like more of a journey than they should have been. Even taking the shortcut through the alley, Antonio couldn't shake the feeling that some immortal god had rearranged reality to spite him. Had he taken a wrong turn? Had he blacked out? No! He wasn't some lightweight teenager anymore. But something wasn't right. He should have been on his street by now. Drunk or not, he knew his way around the neighborhood.

Late Bus

The bus stop was only a block and a half away, not far in normal human-approved temperatures but a real slog when the air was made of daggers cutting at your cheeks and your mocos froze like icicles inside yours nostrils. Thankfully, Jorge was early and could take his time - only thing worse than waiting for a bus was barely missing one and having to wait for the next.

Other Place

This is a dry run. One of many. I know the path so well I can find in the pitch black of night. I have before. I won't last that long tonight, at least I don't think. But I don't know, I never know. Maybe this is not the dry run. Maybe this is the real thing. I can't know. I don't know my future self as well as I should. In truth I'm a little afraid of him. I have no assumptions on who he will be when I meet him in the depths of the grass.

Back Way

 “Hey lady!” The figure called out as they bridged the gap, coming close enough that Evelyn could almost make out human features. “Hey, I wouldn’t go that way if I were you. Some messed up shit back there.” It was a kid, a teenage boy, probably not even old enough to vote. He was walking fast now, just a little short of jogging, hood over his head, his face shadowed as he got closer.