Prompt: Memory
Characters: Mia, Torbjörn
Whenever anyone took notice, they claimed it was a family tradition, which was not exactly a lie. The whole truth was just a bit more complicated.
When Torbjörn was young, he remembered asking his grandmother why all of their pets were always named Bosse.
In response, she smiled a bit. "Well," she said at last, "the history books will tell you that the Old World ended on Year 0, Day 0. But for me, it was on Day 9.
"My parents had told us we were going on vacation up at the family cabin—just them, me, and Grandma and Grandpa. I was young enough that to me, it didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary—I couldn't really wrap my head around how dangerous the Rash was.
"Then, though, Grandma and Grandpa wanted to get out of the car, at the same time our dog, Bosse, needed to pee. But Dad wouldn't let them. He wouldn't even stop to let Bosse out, and the dog peed in the car. Even after that, he didn't stop driving until we got to the cabin, and I was too scared to say a word. By the time we arrived, there was pee all over my clothes and luggage, and I was crying because I was wet and I smelled, and Mom and Dad were acting so weird and they didn't even seem to care. I think that that was the first time I truly realized that something was seriously wrong, that nothing after this was ever going to be the same. It wasn't the news reports or the deaths—it was Bosse, peeing, and nobody caring because there was something much bigger going on.
"We first got Bosse as a puppy, six years before Year 0," she went on. "He lived for six more years after that. Bosse was my constant, as the Old World fell into the new." She gave a pensive smile as she reached out to stroke Bosse's head, receiving a purr in response. "I guess it's just my silly little way of keeping the past alive."
Well that made sense, he supposed. Still, he had no idea why his parents had also kept up the tradition: neither of them had been alive before the Old World fell; they had no way of knowing what it was like.
Right when Torbjörn was beginning his Skaldic training, his grandmother died.
It was sudden, they said. A stroke, natural causes. She hadn't suffered.
Still, as Torbjörn and his brother stood side by side, staring down into her casket, he could not help but feel an ache that he had not expected, something that was not only loss, something he could not place. Somehow, he could not help but feel that something was slipping away.
"Well," his brother said at last, resting a hand on his shoulder, "at least she went easy. Wish I'd asked her more about the Old World, though."
That was it. His grandmother was one of the few people who'd been there, who could have told him of the wonders of technology that had long since died. Now, there were hardly any left.
Years passed. Torbjörn finished his training, found a job, and his thoughts began to turn to starting a family of his own. Things went as these things do: he dated a handful of women, took a serious interest in a few, and finally found the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He took his soon-to-be fiancée to purchase a kitten for their new life together, and they stood arm-in-arm cooing over the proffered offerings; finally she pointed at a fluffy white thing, more puff than body, and said, "That one."
Torbjörn commended her choice with a smile, and they let the kitten loose in his home (soon to be hers as well) that very night. "Have you thought about names, dear?" Siv asked then, both smiling as they watched the little fluffball bat away at a hanging string.
He paused. He considered. Now was now, but… maybe the past had some value after all.
"How does Bosse sound to you?"