Erran Serfaty (yahey) wrote in zenithrp, @ 2016-11-25 04:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | #day 059, erran, gemma |
Who: Erran and Gemma
When: Morning, around 10 am
Where: Gemma's room
The snow was way heavier than Erran was used to—he was more accustomed to the dustings that fell on New York and New Jersey, beautiful while falling and then disappearing into dirt and nothingness when it hit the concrete most of the time. But when it fell in the morning it was like the rain, grey and soporific, easy to sleep through, and Erran woke up later than usual. He went through his usual routine, morning asanas, showering, an abbreviated birkat hashachar and the shema, and sitting. When he got up from lotus on the floor and stretched, he checked the network (two new people) and then headed for the kitchen to get some breakfast.
Or he started to. On the door that used to be Gemma's door, the sign with her name was back in place. Her handwriting, loopy and girly and a little messy, a copperplate-style letter G. Erran still had the slip of paper with her address in Chimayo that she'd given him the night before they'd been "relocated" to the island. He'd kept it out of pure shameless sentimentality, and a very small thread of hope that she was home and that he might find her there someday. Even for Erran, it hadn't been much of a hope; he'd been thinking of this as mourning, just a particularly unfair kind without a body or rituals or casseroles. The avocado seed was suspended on the lip of the water glass on his windowsill, taking in the thin sunlight and waiting to sprout.
His first thought on seeing the sign was that it was something else like the Polaroids of Pam's friend-fiction: just something gratuitously mean that somebody had done, whether one of their own or one of Them. Some kind of joke, absolutely hi-larious. He took the sign off the door, careful not to tear the paper, then paused, looking back at the door. The network hadn't announced any special punishments, but he suddenly remembered that some days back he'd asked to have an answer about what had happened to the missing people. The thought came to mind, dark as it was, that there might be proof behind that door and it wouldn't be pretty.
Or else it was just a dumb prank and he was overreacting. He knocked at the door, just to see what happened.