We Might Be Dead Tomorrow [Short Story]

“99, 100” I counted in my head. “Ready or not, here I come.” I faced the inevitable. The afternoon light was the sand in my hourglass. Maybe it was I who wasn’t ready – I was the worst at seeking.

Mercurr ran across in front of me; her hair trailed behind her. She wanted him to stay as much as I did, probably more. She looked at me with her pleading eyes, and I understood. She looked up and watched the sands of forever fall.

Mercurr had pointed to the river where I saw Venusse. She stared down at the broken pieces of Echo’s heart. Her reflection had claimed her long before I found her. I watched as her last breaths surfaced the lake.

A mighty sobbing led me to Maurus. The setting sun had crippled his steadfast heart.

“If nine could become eight,” I could hear his thoughts, “what force could stop it from becoming one?” He did not want to be that one. I watched as he cried himself to sleep.

I would’ve never found Juno, but I wouldn’t have cared. We were playing a losing game. My soul had given up, and so has my heart, but my legs we’re unaware.

“I can’t go on wasting my time, because for all we know, we might be dead tomorrow.” She said before chasing after the sun.

I found Saturne next. She was seeking, but she had no reason to. I saw her look past the horizon and watched as her eyes grew wide. She had found him the same time her feet found the end of the cliff.

Not long after, I found Oranos; or maybe, he found me. His tears- the lightning to the thunder of his cracking bones- hit the ground first. I looked up at the tree that fell my oldest friend.

Neptenne stood at the foot of a hill. “Why is it that you are looking as if he was only yours to lose?”

I did not want to respond. She blew at the wind and it responded with an icy wave; signaling my expected loss. The sun was down but I haven’t finished looking.

“We lost,” I whispered to the far gone sun.

You lost,” a voice corrected.

I watched him disappear with the sun. I came to save one friend, and lost eight. I was the worst at seeking.

©coversonyourbed

Word count: 396
The concept note for this piece has been sitting in my WIP folder since forever. It was initially drafted as a longer piece and I really don’t think it translated well as a short story. I named it after a song by SoKo.

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