Poetry: Invisible

I am strolling through the mall
looking at expensive shoes
   and laughing

No one can see me
when I wear the right shirt
smiling at the right times

Appreciate the sublime beauty
        of another sale
Praise the wise purchase
   of the next obsession

I am invisible
                    and nameless

I am the hunter
rubbing himself down with deer piss
at 3 in the morning

I look out at all the other white people
chattering into cell phones and shopping
wondering if there's an ugly truth
brewing below the waves
of shiny plastic wrapping
and gigantic cinnamon buns

every one of them is pretending
and they're all miserable
underneath the credit cards and televisions

I think they are
 I think we are
  I think I am

I will

 start a new religion
 and take confessions in the public square

  worship no gods, no idols, no teachings
  nothing, no thing

   listen for the sound of a heart screaming out
   and while the tears roll down my chest

    let them know how each of us is dying inside
    and there is beauty in that:

When we share it with each other.

Short Story: A Dream I Had

I found myself looking down a long road, the trees on either side bent and ancient. The sun burned low and golden on the horizon as my feet made crunching sounds on the gravel below. The path arched out, snakelike in front of me and I could not see more than a stones throw in front of me at any time. I walked through this path, smelling the long slow summer wind and listening to the rustle of tree leaves dancing, the cicadas tremolo made a counterpoint to the endless swell of the trees.

Travelers met me, smiled and waved and went on about their way. They were dressed in poor cloth, most hunched over like pack mules carrying their wares to market. Their faces blurred in and out of reality as the day wandered with me into sunset. As the leaves drank up the last of the day I came at last to the end of the path.

A blank obsidian wall loomed up ahead of me. consuming every bit of my vision. I looked to my right and could see the wall, a thousand feet high stretching out into the horizon. To my left the wall went on forever. The path lead right up to the edge of the wall and abruptly stopped. I walked over to the end of the path and put my hands on the wall. It was warm and pulsing, as if it had been soaking up the sunlight all day long and drinking in the life of the forest around me.

I stood there, staring at the wall for half an hour when an old man and his cart came teetering up to the wall. I walked over to his ox and cart and asked him.

"Excuse me sir, how does one get around this wall?"

"You do not go around the Wall, you go through it."

"Through it? Tell me, how do you go through the Wall?"

"Well, you'll need a sword." He said, patting the blade strapped to his side.

At this, he ticked his reigns and drove his ox-cart right up to the wall. As he approached, a seam appeared in the middle of it where it met the road. The wall swung open and he drove his cart right through the middle of it.

I ran after him as fast as I could and smacked face first into the wall. I could not understand this, the doors had become a blank face of black stone once more, no trace of the doors remained. I scratched at the Wall, trying to find where it had opened, I screamed and cursed the Wall, kicked and punched at with all of my energy and I cried until I could move no more. At last, when all of my energy had been depleted, I fell into a deep sleep at the base.

When dawn crept over my cloak I found the Wall stretching up into the sky still. A thousand feet tall, a thousand feet thick and no end as far as my eyes could tell. I squinted up through the morning haze at the travelers approaching the wall. A young woman and her child were standing nearby, waiting for someone and peering down the road every few minutes. I dusted myself off and walked over.

"Tell me miss, where can I get a sword to cross through the Wall?"

"Oh, there is a smith about three miles back up in the forest. In the village off to your left."

"Thank you very much!"

I knew this was what I was waiting for and I leapt up the trail, bounding past the faceless traffic on the road. Around three hundred bends, across the open field and back into the forest I ran. The fork to the village was as she said, about three miles from the Wall and by the time I had run there I was thoroughly exhausted. Panting and soaked in sweat, I turned off of the main road and made my way to the village.

The village rose into view as I passed over a small hill, it's size obscured by the trees surrounding it. Most of the buildings were low, conical reed roofed buildings with small chimneys. In the center of the village was a large well and market. Only when I got closer to the village did I realize how large it truly was. People were overflowing all over the center of the market, a thousand fruits and vegetables lined up, small crafts and smoked meat, bolts of cloth, a hundred packs of children running through the mess of it all. I wandered closer and found the closest stall.

"Step right up sir, we've got all a weary traveler could need right here."

The man behind the stall was as blurry as every other person I had seen. His face a pale blur like he was shaking it too fast for my eyes to follow.

"Can you tell me where the blacksmith is? I have need of a sword to get past the Wall down the road."

"Oh, so you're trying to get past the Wall are you? Very well then, the blacksmith keeps his hut on the outskirts of town. Just keep going down the main road through the market, you'll see it."

"Could I buy some water and food from you sir? My night was spent at the base of the wall and I ran all the way here this morning."

"Well, no man trying to get past the Wall should do so hungry, let's see what we can do for you."

I ate the eels and bread he had to sell after I walked over to the well and drained it dry. The wild packs of children kept their distance from me and the people of the village smiled and nodded, but said nothing to me as I lay against the cool stone of the well and rested. After eating and cleaning up, I made my way once more down the road, towards the edge of town and presumably, the blacksmith.

As I left the market area, the houses of the village got less crowded and I could hear the forest life once again. I smiled at the serene beauty of it thinking, "A man could live and die happy here." My resolve continued though, as did my walk towards the edge of town. As the houses stretched out into pasture I could see a single column of black smoke curling up into the summer skies. Aha, the blacksmith.

I approached the hut slowly, unsure of what I would find. The acrid smell of sulfur and etching acid washed over me and i could feel the heat of the furnaces from the road. A steady clanging issued from the front entrance and as I made my way towards the front of the building I could see the blacksmith hunched over an anvil. He stood six feet tall, a slight man, bent over in his back and covered from head to toe in a worn out red robe. The hood of his robe covered his face completely and he made no sign of recognition as I made my way into the front of the shop.

At once, the hammer stopped falling and a dead quiet fell over the hut. The cloaked figure turned it's head slowly towards me and all I could see were the hint of two eyes in a endless sea of shadow. He placed the hammer down next to the blade he had been hammering on and started shuffling towards me.

"What do you want?" His voice creaked out of the hood like parchment unrolling in the basement of a temple.

"I have come to buy a sword from you smith. I want to cross through the black wall down the road."

He made no movement, no sound. The world came crashing to a halt and the only thing that moved was the heat waves dancing through the hut.

"I do not sell swords here. I do not sell swords anywhere. Go somewhere else."

I stared at the old man, unbelieving. "There is no other smith in this town, you must be selling swords. Practically every person here has a sword on their belt."

He said nothing, shuffling back to the anvil and resuming his work. I stood there in disbelief and eventually gave up. Noon had passed me by and despondent, I set back out for the village.

I had no where to go. The road leading away from the wall lead back to the past and I knew that no passage could be granted there. I was stuck here in this place between worlds with no idea why.

Years went by. I worked at the nearby farms until I had saved enough money to take over one of the smaller plots. I learned the sun and wind until I knew them by name. My hands grew gnarled and thick as bark. I could grasp a burning log and never feel a thing. My muscles grew corded and my skin bronzed until I looked like the trees surrounding the fields.

I married by the fading light of my 40th summer. The village had become my home, my entire life spent feeding the people who worked there. I would spend my evenings turning wood in my hands and carving figures to sell in the market. Two fine sons, blurs in my memory came from our happy home. We worked long summer days, sweated through the harvests and whittled through the long dark winters. The years went by in a blur and I found myself blessing my oldest boy as he started a family of his own.

Death found us in front of the fireplace. He slipped in silently in the night and took my wife away from me while we dozed away a long dark winter night. Not a week later he returned for me. A sudden fever, a balsting chill and visions of my son standing over me. In my minds eye I could still see that looming Wall. Cold and unfathomable it taunted me by its mystery. It had been years since it loomed in my dreams and here it was on the eve of my demise, silently judging me from afar. I lamented never seeing the other side, my heart and mind clouded with remorse. With my dying breath I cursed it.

I awoke sleeping in front of the Wall the day I arrived there. I staggered around, confused and scared. The same young woman was walking towards the Wall. I waited for her to near and asked her if she had seen me before. She backed away and shook her head, shuffling towards the Wall with her children and hurried through.

The morning mist wound around my ankles and I wondered at the sureness of my memories. I had felt Death's hand close around my heart. I had seen my sons grow and be married. I had wept for a week when my wife went to the gods. Still, I was here.

My feet turned and took me back along that road towards where memory told me the village would lay. Sure enough, it was exactly the way I remembered it. The town square still bustled with a faceless crowd of people, the air tinged with commerce and chaos.

"Excuse me young sir, but are you not the blacksmith's apprentice?"

The man in front of me was covered from head to toe in trinkets and junk. He clanked and whistled just standing there.

"Well, no actually."

"Oh, my mistake. I'm on my way to see him and I thought I could hire you to carry my cart. Seems my porter has gone a bit deep into his cups while I attended to my affairs. Why, even if you are not the apprentice, perhaps you could be convinced to assist me for a few coppers?"

"I suppose it couldn't hurt. A few coppers are always a good thing. Where are your goods?"

He pointed to the handcart across the street. I muscled the lopsided pile of junk up through the deep rutted streets and out into the open fields beyond. The junker was a man of merry mood and he whistled softly in time to the rattling of his clutter. The countryside peeled back and the smoke from the furnace filled my face once more.

The old man didn't acknowledge us as we approached and the junk trader stood there silently for a moment, turned to me and pressed two coppers into my hand. We sat in silence, listening to the constant clanging of the hammer on steel, the hiss of a red hot blade burning water away and the crows fighting over dinner until the sun started to set.

The hammer fell quiet as the sun dipped low behind the mountains. The old man put his tools down, wiped the sweat from his brow and spoke.

"Junkman. I see you have brought me what I asked for."

Clanking, he replied: "Of course I did old man. There is no need to thank me. I'll be taking my payment now."

The old man sighed and brushed back his hood.

"Let's get this done then."

The junk trader stood and walked over to where the old man was sitting. He reached back into his pack and brought out a small hand axe. The old man pulled up the sleeve on his faded old robe and placed his wrist on the anvil. I cried out: "What are you doing? You can't be serious!" I stood up and started casting around for a weapon.

"SILENCE!" The old man boomed. "You cannot interfere here. It is my price to pay."

The trader looked back at me and smiled. "You fetch a hefty price son."

The axe fell and blood poured out from the stump of the blacksmith's arm. He didn't make a sound, he simply reached for a blade resting in the red furnace and the air filled with cooking flesh as he cauterized the arm.

I stood motionless, uncomprehending and terrified. What did the trader mean, I fetch a hefty price?

The clanking pile of rags reached down and scooped up his prize and sealed it in the wax from a candle. I watched in growing terror as these two men completed their transaction. The hands of the trader shoved the hand deep into one of the bags hanging from his belt and he turned to me at last.

"Well, there you are son. I'm off to the next town past the Wall. Thanks for your troubles, enjoy the grumpy old man here."

"Wait, why did you take his hand? Who are you people, what madness have you brought upon me?"

The heap of dirt and rags just smiled and took up his cart. Only a merry whistling was the answer to this burning question. I turned back to the blacksmith, screaming for a reply. Only a wall of silence greeted me in the ever darkening air. I slumped against the wooden stool near the furnace dazed.

"Hmmph. What a terrible start to this. Alright apprentice, get to working those bellows while I figure out how to work this blade with only my left hand. Gods only know why I paid that much for you but such is the way of the world."

"I am not your apprentice, that man did not sell me. No one owns me, why would you say such a thing?"

"What wil you do then?" he spat in my face. "Go back to farming? Raise sons and grow old and fat in some stinking farmhouse? Tell me boy, how well did that work for you? Was that how you envisioned your life then?"

I reeled back and felt my blood drop into my toes. How could he know these things? Was it not a dream? I knew then that he spoke truth. I belonged here. I could feel my hand reaching out for the steel. It sang to me.

"Very well old man, I will learn your craft. You seem to know something of me. I have not the pleasure of your name sir."

"Nor shall you. You may call me Master. I will call you Boy. That is final. you will obey me in all things, is that understood?"

"Yes Master"

The days fled fast in that shack, I learned more in a week about the craft of forging than any man may learn in a lifetime. I knew that Master was truly more than the title of honor for this strange old man. It was the truth of him. Just as in the past, my weeks flew by me, seasons reeled through the heavens above and in the blur of time I lost my way.

I learned the sword with blood and bone. I poured my very soul into that forge day and night. We lived there in the forge, trading horseshoes and nails for food and cloth. I drew water every morning from the well in the village and carried it back up the road. It was a simple, unhurried life.

We would work on a sword for years on end, perfecting every fold in the metal, working it until it was as supple as grass in the wind with and edge harder than the anvil we worked upon. Once the edge was honed perfectly sharp, Master would wrap the blade in silk and carry it off to his customers. I never saw the customers or the money he received. We made everything we needed trading with the village and I never asked too many questions for fear of the old mans wrath. For years I trained under the Master and in time became known as Apprentice. By the time he stopped calling me Boy, I was 50 years old.

Master has died. This winter was too much for his ancient bones and he passed to the next world a tired and angry man. I am Master now, two young villagers apprenticed to me summer last have taken the role of Boy. I do not know their names, they call me only Master. We sweat each day in the fires of the forge and bend this earth to our wills. Every day I see the Wall looming in the horizon and every day I pine more and more to see the other side.

It is my turn to fade into the horizon now. I am too old for the world and no one has seen my work. 12 perfect blades I have turned out in my life. I can see them there on the wall behind my Apprentice as he damps the sweat off of my brow. I am dying and I have never gone through the Wall. I recall my previous life in that moment, the farm, the houses, my loving wife, my boys and their children. How could a man get another chance at living and find himself at the same place again? The Wall loomed heavily in my mind once more and I was wracked with suffering at having wasted not just one, but two lives in this foolish quest.

I awoke once more.

The mist, the Wall, the clacking of horses and the murmur of morning travel washed over me again. I could not believe I was here again. The woman and her child passed me by, the same look on her face, the same sunlight filtering through the trees.

I ran as fast as I could through the village, past the farmlands and to the blacksmiths shack. There was the tattered old red robed Master, clanging away at the anvil. I looked to his hands. Both appeared firm and whole.

"Master! You have your hands!"

He turned his face towards me scowling. "Of course I do. Why on earth would I not?"

"I thought..."

"You know nothing. Sit down Apprentice. Let me tell you a tale."

Long ago there was a young boy born of a simple family who sought to travel the world. Every day he would lie awake in bed and dream of the world far off in the horizon. While other children played in the rivers and forests, he would dream alone in the fields near his parents farm. His father indulged him for a time but when his majority came to him he sat him down at the hearth and spoke.

"The time for your dreams has passed my son. Now you must grow to be a man and take on more of the farm. This constant dreaming will do you no good in the days to come. You must keep your mind focused here, in the real world."

The boy was scared. He had no interest in farming or horses or the ruddy faced farmers daughters that surrounded the farm. His was to be a life of legend, full of adventure and the riches that it would bring him. Deep in the night he stole away from the farm, one foot falling in front of the other to bring him to his destiny.

By dawn he was further from the farm than he had ever been in his life and he chanced upon a travelling hermit at the spring near the crossroads. The hermit looked at the boy and smiled.

"Well, what have we here? A boy on his own? Are you lost young man?"

"No sir, I have set upon the path of adventure and this road has led me here. I am off to see the world."

"A noble cause to be sure! One I have undertaken myself these many moons. Are you prepared for the world? How will you defend yourself, what of food and shelter?"

"I have my knife here sir and a good stock of food. My camp tent is in my backpack and this fine walking stick."

The boy held aloft his hard wooden staff to the hermit.

"Fine it is indeed young sir, but what of the wolves that stir in the hills? What will you do when ill spirits rise against you in the night?"

The boy thought for a moment. "I don't know sir, I hadn't thought of that."

"What of the dragons lurking in the mountains?"

"I don't know!"

"And the terrible Guardians of the East? So foul that to describe them would cause the skies to darken and worms to boil from the ground?"

"Oh good sir, I do not know. Please tell me no more!"

"Such is the world you seek to see. I have seen all of these and more. It is a cold and unforgiving place full of demons beyond count. There is no rest, there is no respite. I bid you to return to your home and seek this world no more. It is nothing but a den of monsters and thieves."

The boy fell to the ground sobbing. His dreams shattered onto the crossroads in a thousand pieces. He reached down to scoop them back up and felt nothing but air. He scooped up what he could and pulled himself off the ground.

"I did not know. Thank you for telling me these things. I will return to my farm and see my parents."

"Good that you do son, good that you do."

As the boy turned back towards the valley the old hermit chuckled and sat down. He removed his hood and shook off his beard. There at the crossroads sat the boys father, laughing and drinking his wine.

The blacksmith unfolded his hands and looked me squarely in the face.

"Tell me then Apprentice. What is the moral of this story?"

I thought for a moment and replied: "One should know ones station in life and respect it."

He moved so fast I thought he never moved at all. His hand knocked me reeling onto the floor of the shack.

"WRONG you stupid child! The moral is simple. Do not believe in what you see. The world is more than simple stories, more than darkness and death, more than beauty and warmth. It is more than we will ever know and unless we push past our eyes, we will never know what lays beyond. This is the third time you have come to me in this place and still you have learned nothing. Why do I continue to speak? I gave you every secret of sword making I possess and for your whole life you sat here waiting on me hand and foot. What were you waiting for? Why did you not take a sword and leave?"

I stammered out "I thought it would be ungrateful of me..."

"You never asked. First you try to ply me with money, an insult to the concept of sword making. Next I decide to be kind and give up a hand for the chance to teach you. For fifty years I watched you yearn for the blades we forged and yet you remained silent. Why? Explain yourself."

I could not reply. I had no answer. I had never thought to simply ask.

"I do not know Master. Please forgive me."

I bowed low onto the dirt and felt his hand smack me across the top of my head again.

"Forgive you? Hmmph. Three lifetimes I have wasted here in this shack trying to show you the obviousness of the truth and you think it that simple?"

I said nothing. I kept my face on the ground and pulled back my tears. I had failed completely.

"Bagh, get up Boy. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't care. Besides, someone must fetch the water if we are to make you a sword."

I looked up at the face of the Master and smiled weakly.

"Thank you Master, I will not disappoint you this time."

"You'd better not or your next lifetime will be spent as a cockroach."

A selection from a forthcoming story

This is an excerpt from a as of yet untitled short story/novella/thing that I've been working on.

Enjoy!

The flavor set off a supernova in my head, like fire had been cooled, condensed into liquid and poured into this cup. I reveled in the heat of the coffee rolling around in my mouth, every nerve ending leaping up and down like a toddler in a toy store.

David stared at me.

"Umm, that's a bit hot don't you think? Be careful, you'll burn your mouth like that and ruin the flavor."

I thought for a moment. This was hot. Damn hot. So that's what hot is. Huh.

"So tell me what you can remember. Let's start with your name."

"My name is Adeline Rabinowitz. I'm 36 years old, I am a teacher at Mary Mumford Elementary School in Richmond, Virginia and I live in the Museum District."

I reeled a bit as the memories clicked into place. I didn't know how I could remember anything.

David cocked his head. "Well then, it appears you remember quite a bit ma'am."

"I suppose I do."

"So what's the last thing you remember before waking up on the street? I'm quite curious how you ended up in Cincinnati."

"I remember walking home from work. I had left late after grading papers and eating dinner at work and was walking through Carytown on my way home. It was, I think, a little past 11 that night."

"I decided to cut through the alleys behind some shops to try and make it home a little faster. I was about three blocks north of Carytown when I heard screaming. About a half block down I saw this guy trying to force a woman into his car, she was screaming at the top of her lungs and trying to fight him off. I started running over and drawing my taser out of my purse. The guy stopped, turned towards me and I saw a bright flash."

My hands started shaking, coffee spilling over the rim of the cup.

"Oh god. He shot me. I was trying to stop him from hurting that woman and he shot me."

David leaned over the table and placed his hand over mine.

"Are you certain that he shot you? You appear to be in perfect health, well, aside from being a bit chilly and nerve wracked."

"No, I'm certain of it, he fired three shots at me. One of them hit me."

David drew a long, shuddering breath.

"Well, that's a hell of a tale miss. It still doesn't explain how you ended up shivering here in Cincinnati."

"No, I suppose it doesn't. I can't really remember much beyond that, there's this hole in my memories that I just can't explain. Listen, David, I know this may be a little weird for you but I'd like to ask a favor."

"I'm all ears."

"I'd like you to help me figure out what's going on here. I can't remember anything in order, I'm trying to remember someone's phone number. Someone I know..... I know they can help but I just can't seem to recall their face or number or anything."

I felt the tears well up in my eyes again, the coffee shop closing in around me. Why the hell am I here? What the fuck is going on? The questions rolled around in my head as it started spinning out of control.

David sighed. "Alright then, I can help you out. The greatest joy of being retired is having no plans in particular. I think the first thing we should do is get you some new clothes, some solid food and then we'll go speak with the police and see if there's a missing person report filed on you."

I nodded and smiled. We sat in amicable silence for another fifteen minutes or so, sipping the coffee in front of us and listening to the patter of the winter rain on the street, the clanking and whooshing behind the espresso bar and the murmur of the patrons talking in quiet tones. I felt warmth returning to my bones and seeping into my heart. As strange as all this was, I knew that in this place none would cause me harm.

David walked over to the bar and paid our tab while I gathered myself up and headed to the door. The wind and rain was a cold as it looked, I felt my skin tense as we stepped out onto the street.

"There's a thrift store about a block from here Adeline, let's get you something warmer to wear."

The door opened to a thousand relics of past lives, broken dreams and passing fancies. Porcelain statues, worn out baby strollers, lamps of an indeterminate age, mysterious kitchen utensils that made no sense rolled past my eyes as we made our way to the clothing racks. I pawed through the women's clothing until I had found some passable pants and shirts. There was even a rack of used underwear for me to look through. I had to wonder at this, who drops underwear off at a thrift store?

Soon enough I had warm clothing in hand and was heading with David to the counter when I felt a strange tug in my mind. David peered curiously at me as I wandered over to the electronics section. I stood there staring at the obsolete computers, piles of old beige mice and keyboards and ancient video games. Something was calling me here. Something from my past.

David stood next to me. "What is it? Do you recognize something?"

"I don't know, there's something here I need to see. Give me just a moment David."

"Take your time, I'm in no hurry."

I walked over to the shelves full of electronics and peered closely. There it was, tucked up behind a dusty old Sega Master System. A slender leather case was lurking in the shadows. I reached back and pulled its considerable weight out and opened the cover. Inside was a fairly new smartphone.

"Well that's not something you see every day!" David peered over my shoulder as I tried to turn it on.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, that particular phone hasn't been released yet. Finding anything made within the last five years is rare in a thrift store. Finding a prerelease model is akin to finding the Fountain of Youth in a Wal-mart bathroom."

The power button wouldn't work. I fiddled with the switch for a while until I realized the battery must be dead. I looked at the bottom of the phone for a power connector. Thankfully it charged via USB so there wouldn't be any problems getting it charged.

"David, I know this phone is mine. I don't know how I know it, but this is definitely mine. I hate to put you out, you've already done so much for me. Can you buy this for me? I don't have anyone else to turn to. I can pay you back as soon as I figure out where my money is."

David smiled and took my hand.

"Of course, that's why I'm here. To help you."

Curious turn of phrase, I thought.

David tried to pull a USB charger out of the squidlike horror of the cabling bin and cursed under his breath. I looked back down at the shiny screen of the phone. My past was in there somewhere, lurking in the binary memory of this innocuous looking device.

The clerk at the counter cocked her head at the cellphone.

"Wow, I wonder who dropped that off. Nice find lady!"

I nodded my head and smiled weakly. Who did drop this off here? Did I do this at some point? There are too many mysteries here. My stomach began to turn. David waved his credit stick over the reader and stuck his thumb on the scanner.

A few beeps later I found myself changing into the second hand clothing in the back of the store. As I pulled the shirt down over my head I noticed a tattoo on my left arm for the first time. Three solid parallel lines right below my armpit.

☰

Weird, I thought. What does that mean? How did it get there? I looked over the rest of my body for anything else I had missed. There was a light scar running down my right thigh, just above the knee. That's not that unusual I suppose, plenty of people have scars. Eventually I'll figure out where that came from.

I headed back to the front of the store where David was waiting for me.

"Better?" he asked.

"God yes. I'm actually warm. David, I found a tattoo while I was dressing. Three lines right under my left armpit. I have no idea what they mean."

"How curious! More mysteries from your past no doubt. I must be honest, this is by far the most interesting thing that has happened to me since I retired."

"I'm glad you're so intrigued." I scowled.

David looked aside and muttered an apology.

"No, no, it's alright David. I'm just really burned out, my head isn't working right and nothing makes any sense to me."

David turned and looked me in the eyes. "You have nothing to apologize for my dear. These are extraordinary circumstances and you are perfectly within your rights to be testy. Let's see if a good meal doesn't help you out. What's your pleasure?"

I thought for a moment. "Indian? Is there an Indian joint around here somewhere?"

"I believe so, let's see."

David pulled out his phone and started looking for a place to eat. He glided his fingers over the surface of his phone with practiced ease, painting mudras over the glowing screen. I watched his fingers dance with amazement. His face went calm and focused in that moment, his eyes clear and a faint smile on his face. It was like watching a dancer, if the dancer used only their fingers to paint a picture in your mind.

My reverie broke with his words. "Ah, there's a highly recommended Indian restaurant three blocks from here. Good Yelp reviews, decent price and... there we go, online booking. We've got a table."

I pulled my new overcoat tight around me and headed with David out into the street. The rain kept coming in waves as we walked through another series of dimly lit streets and old cars. We made it to the Indian place without getting too drenched, though my raincoat was starting to leak a little as we made it up to the door.

The smell of the Indian restaurant nearly knocked me out. Spices laced with sweat and meat trailed past my face in a stream of wonders. I had never smelled anything so tempting, so unspeakably delicious in all my life. My mouth began to water as I watched a plate heaped with curry pass on a waiters hands to a table. David looked over and smiled.

The maitre'd walked smoothly over to us and bowed slightly, his AR headset bobbling slightly.
"Dr. Halifax? A pleasure sir, your table is waiting for you right this way."

As we sat down at the table I peered over at David. "Doctor?"

"Well, yes actually. I have a Doctorate in Computer Science and Psychology. I spent most of my life as an AI researcher and programmer. It's been a strange time, no doubt. I've seen and done things I never dreamed possible."

"Oh..."

I reached down to plug in the USB charger and hooked in the cellphone I found in the thrift store. The LED blinked red, angry at its badly powered state. That'll take some time, I thought. The rain continued to pour outside, I gazed out the window and got a chance to let my mind wander for a while as David poured over the menu. This has got to be the strangest day I have ever had, I mused. The menu slid across the table with a hush and David recommended the yellow curry.

"Sure, that's fine."

The meal arrived silently, the waiter gliding across the carpet and sliding the dish of curry under my nose with practiced ease. I ate the entire dish without chewing, one swoop of the spoon. David stared at me silently, his jaw hanging slightly open.

"Uhhh, that's quite an appetite there miss...."

"I guess I was hungry. Sorry to be so impolite David. I feel like I haven't eaten in weeks."

"No, it's of no concern. I hope you don't mind if I eat at a slightly slower pace."

I blushed slightly, "No, of course not."

While David made his way through the curry I reached over for the cellphone and checked to see if I could power it on. The angry red LED was steady now and the power button was glowing. Great, now I can see what the deal is with this thing.

The screen flashed as I powered up the phone, hiccuping a few times and loading the boot screen. Android, good. At least it wasn't some locked down carrier written bullshit. The service light flared up and it got a steady data connection. There is one thing I need more than any other. The Dialer list showed the most called numbers and there at the top was the one I needed most.

I punched the record up and saw a face I couldn't quite place. John? John Wilton? The entry had his name and information, but I couldn't connect the picture with any memories. The last call to his cell went out just over three days ago so I dialed it again.

"Hi, you've reached John's phone. Leave a message or just send me a Wave and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

Crap.

Next on the list was the schools office number.

Voicemail.

I went through the entire dialed list and got voicemail on every number. What the hell? How can everyone I apparently know be offline at the same time? I checked the wireless connection again to make sure I was connected. 65% signal strength, more than enough for VOIP. This makes no sense, I thought. If I was in a deadzone I couldn't dial out.

David set his glass down and leaned over the table.

"Can't reach anyone? Try my number, see if you can get through."

I dialed his number and without pause his phone started singing across the table and vibrating a waltz. Strauss?

"Nice ringtone David."

He smiled. "Thanks! Well now we know it's not your phone that's broken. Have you figured anything else out?"

"There's a ton of pictures in the memory card, mostly a cat. I imagine it's my cat but I can't understand why I need a hundred shots of it sleeping in the window."

"Ha! I imagine that most people would wonder that given your situation. I for one, would wonder why trees are so interesting if I lost my memory."

"So is your data connection working? Can you get on the web?"

"Yeah, looks fine to me."

"Look through your browser history and bookmarks and see if you can find anything relevant. I'd take a gander but that's far too personal."

I waved over to the browser and waited for the bookmarks to pop up.

"There's nothing special here so far. Amazon, craigslist, Boing Boing, a bunch of cat sites."

"Wait... what the hell is this? It's just an IP address."

2f01:03b8:85a3:ff00:0000:8a2e:0e7b:7334

David leaned over the table with his hand out. "May I?"

I shrugged and passed the phone over the table to David. He reached into his shoulder bag and pulled out a small grey box covered in ports. I must have looked baffled.

"It's a portable firewall I built. Damn useful when you don't know what you're getting into. The last thing we need is to brick your only source of information."

David fiddled with the phone and firewall for a while, then sighed.

"You'd think that setting up a proxy with this thing would be a little easier. Well, I didn't spend all my time in a lab for nothing."

He squinted though a pile of menus and eventually his head popped up.

"Right then, here we go. Cross your fingers, I hope this gives us some answers."

I pulled my chair along side his and watched the phones screen as it loaded the IP address. A simple frame popped up and a bar of outdated HTML loaded on the left hand side of the screen. Plain white background with blue text. It looked like something from before I was born.

1. About this page

2. Log in to Devnotes

3. Contact the Webmaster

4. External Hyperlinks

David looked like he was having a heart attack. His face dropped ten shades to pale and he slumped back in his chair, reaching for his water glass.

"Holy crap David, are you alright? What is it?"

"This is... this is mine."

"What?"

"This is my website. I mean, it's really old but I clearly remember this page. This is from my thesis project at Stanford."

I was stunned. "How the hell did that end up on my phone. David, what the hell is going on here? What are you not telling me? Do you know who I am?" I fumed at him and people started looking over at the table we shared.

"I don't know, I've never met you before in my life. I mean, you say you teach at an elementary school I have no idea why you would have this address. I don't even know why this is on the web, this was an intranet site when I was using it."

I grabbed the phone off the table and yanked out the cable leading to the firewall. I stuffed the phone and charger into my pockets and stood up.

"Fuck you man. I don't know who you are or why that's on my phone but I'm going to the police right now god dammit. Don't you dare try to follow me you freak." I flicked him off and stormed out of the restaurant. I could hear David saying "Wait!" faintly as I slammed the door and started running down the street. My phone started ringing immediately, David trying to stop me no doubt. I ignored the ringing and ran as fast as I could towards the end of the block.