Encase by Serena Sallow

Author:Serena Sallow [Sallow, Serena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-02-27T22:00:00+00:00

seventeen

A world of concrete and wires, full of mostly hairless mammals that fight about social inconsequentials as if they are life and death.

A world with streets and plains, and stairs that only connect floors and ceilings, stairs that always have a top.

A world with cars and horses, and dry and wet, deserts and swirling waterfalls. A world that is light and dark, night and day, and hungers, thirsts, breathes.

A world that is so different, and yet... this is the only world I have ever known.

It’s cold and crisp. It’s a November morning – of course it’s cold and crisp. My fingers are numb because I’ve forgotten my gloves in my flat, but I didn’t forget a woolen purple scarf, tied many times around my neck, and a knit cap that pulls down on my silver hair. My numbed fingers go to examining myself, as if I hadn’t watched myself get dressed this morning – my tied hair sits on my left shoulder, in a huge braid thick enough to marvel even Rapunzel, tied with a leather cord at the bottom. Even with my hair pulled thusly, my head feels warm. My hands examine the slippery, water resistant cloth of my jacket, and I stare at my tight denim jeans and faded brown boots, the insides quilted with care and warmth. As I turn a silver, moon-charmed ring pendant on the finger of my right hand, I stare around me.

Concrete, as I’ve known it to be. Trees are framed in patches of gold and red leaves, and the sunlight is caught behind an eternally gray sky, swirling and burbling above, promising rain that we hope will not come with the cold.

We?

There are hundreds of people, here. All different heights, and colors, and shapes. Moving, talking, all warmly dressed and searching for their technology within the folds of their clothing as they walk between buildings. Their voices are accented, touched, just as mine is.

I am in some sort of square – with large, curling fountains near frozen in their movements, and white concrete all around me.

These are all facts that I have come to accept, know, and understand...

But why is this all so surprising to me?

I feel strangely, a way I have never felt before. Like I have been asleep for a long, long time, and I’m waking up, and for a moment, I believed so firmly in the dream that I thought it to be the real world.

I begin walking forward. I cannot remember for the moment where I am going – I begin to search my pockets for my phone to direct me, dutifully.

My hands come up empty almost instantly. Bollocks. I must have left that in the flat, too.

But my hands will not be empty for long.

I’m running, now, my feet knowing where they are headed, despite my mind having absolutely no recollection. I shift slightly as I run, point my toes in my shoes, as if it’s more natural for me to be walking with pointed feet than it is on my heels.

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