Neverending

31

'You've seen Seb?'

I can't believe I'm only hearing this now. 'Where?'

Donna motions towards the front door. 'He was heading out of Republica.'

It's obvious I don't know what that Republica is. Bloody Latin.

'Oh, the sort of... outskirts of town, I suppose.'

Donna seems very casual.

'You seem very casual, Donna,' I say.

She shrugs. 'You know Seb. He can take care of himself.' She's right, of course.

'How is he?' I ask. I'm holding my breath, though I'm not sure why.

'He's fine. Good, even! All things considered.' My shoulders relax, just a little. Seb's fine. Though I guess Suzie would've said if he wasn't.

Donna looks out towards the not-ocean. I feel like we're thinking the same thing.

'What are we doing here, Donna?'

Donna replies carefully. We're not kids anymore but Seb and I still rely on her. 'I think that we should try our best to settle in here. See what unfolds.' If I look disappointed, Donna doesn't comment on it. Her resting stance is stoicism which has counteracted my impulsivity well over the years. 'We've all got places to stay and I, for one, can get on board with this food.'

I look down at my coffee and cookie. I don't know if it's the exhilaration of yesterday but everything here does taste exceptional, even the microwave burritos. And we all know how they can be. I read this book once about a woman who wants to escape her life so badly that she takes a one-way ticket to a colony on another planet. The one thing that really exemplified the eventual horror of her situation was how bad, and scarce, the food got. I still think of her when I'm walking through woodland and I always drag extra air into my lungs. Air that she didn't get to breathe anymore.

I look out of the window now, only just realising I could be finding myself in a not dissimilar situation. I remind myself, I'm not on another planet. I can walk out of here any time I like.

But into what?, I wonder.

This time, Donna does say something. 'I can see you're doing a classic Tinder. No need to catastrophise just yet. We're ok.' I smile because she knows me so well. It's only recently that I've realised that the feeling of being known is a good one. Unless you're an idiot, I imagine. I reflect for a moment and, not for the first time, hope that I'm not one.

'Shall we take a walk?' Donna suggests. 'I can show you where I'm staying.'

I reach for my phone, to message Suze. The apps don't seem to be working, though. I look around for something to write on and something to write with. Are pens still a thing?  I don't think I've seen one in at least a year.  I find a stick of charcoal on the shelf near the sink. It'll do. I scribble a note on the Vita Fons bag and prop it up near the cookie jar.

'Let's go,' I say.