One Day, Uninvited

The air is thick with acrid smoke that clings to the nostrils. My head is swimming again, half-recalled 
memories returning unbidden to the surface... and then nothing. The clearest, purest emptiness that can 
exist for only seconds before the clutter of thought inevitably returns. The smoke has cleared and the 
room is full of computer terminals, all blocky old keyboards and monitors, beige plastic, screens empty 
but for command prompts

I approach one of the terminals, hesitant but sure that this is what I am supposed to do here. I reach 
for the keyboard but before I can type anything in I notice that there’s now something more on the 
screen: 
“I feel the same way you do”

Almost before I register what it says, the text disappears, as if being deleted character by character 
by somebody who had typed it in. The speakers emitted a high-pitched, squealing feedback, quietly at 
first and then rising both in volume and pitch until it suddenly stopped. Three seconds passed. The 
screen showed a clock, then greenish static, then pictures of birds. Capercaillie, lammergeyer, 
cassowary... accentor, dowitcher, garganey... then static again, tinted red this time

The other terminals had already started to melt, a wave of liquefied beige plastic washing over the 
room. Sparks flying, glass hitting the floor and shattering. Blue-green cables erupting from holes 
beneath where the terminals had stood. I wanted to stay and keep my terminal company, but there was 
nothing for it. I had to run, leaving it behind. I told myself we would meet again, but honestly I was 
almost sure it was impossible

My mouth felt dry, my breath short, my heart beating rapidly, painfully, as I ran as fast as I could 
away from the terminal’s room 

Through tight, cold grey tunnels that smelt like burning wood
Through vast halls where my footsteps echoed around me
To the surface, at last, where the millions of vast trees with their blue leaves rise to meet the sun
Where I live, to this day, in a cottage by the lake, carving wooden statues 
of my lost love, day in, day out
I won’t forget, though our time together was short