The Key Between Stranger Realms - Day Six

On this ordinary morning, I am encircling the maze of buildings which are trying so desperately to be homes. Yet, they aren’t much different than metal cages, cold, dank, hidden from sunshine. There is a park, a single stretch of grass and flowering bushes that might or might not be aware that they harbor vitality for the entire block.

Sipping a frothy cup of energy in the shade, a woman across the way tosses a frisbee. The breeze takes it much farther than her aim, and it lands by my feet. She limps toward me with a distracted gaze of awkward acknowledgement, arm outstretched.

“Thanks,” she says.

She starts to turn away then pauses.

“Hey, wanna play?” she asks, glancing toward her friends who are blurs in the distance.

There, I discover her secret life: a seafaring falconer turned peg-legged marauder, who captains her very own pirate ship.

“Where is the kid?” I panic.

The deck sways to the swelling of the waves below.

“The kid?” she questions, her scar-marked cheek puckering in confusion.

“Did he find his mother?” I ask, the smell of citrus still lingering from the day we met.

“Key, where is your head?” the captain sighs.

Key? Is that what she calls me? Among the strangers I have encountered, I have never remembered their names. Yet, it seems I have become familiar enough with this woman that she knows mine.

“The boy and his mother reunited nigh on six moons back. Remember? We returned them to that orcharding township,” the captain explains.

Six months. I look down at my body, my clothes. I am dressed like her: a seafarer. A brimmed hat crowns my head, and I have never been more confused about my life. Or have I?

“Hit your head, must have been from the skirmish yesterday,” the captain decides and squeezes my shoulder.

“Get some rest,” she encourages, nudging me toward the passage below deck.

As the sun sets on the watery horizon and I pass through the entourage of strangely familiar gazes, I am certain this is another nightmare I have yet to escape. Because all I can consider is the runaway king and the time lost in between our last day together in the forest. I think of the Oracle and wonder if she can mend this broken time.

***

Hello, wanderer!

This is part of a daily series. You can start reading it here:

Or continue on to Day Seven here:

If you'd like to read another ongoing fantasy, you might enjoy Ersoa's Awakening:

xoxo,

for now,

-your friend, lost in thought