Hello, Earth
She felt most alone in the crowds.
Faye hopped on a shuttle to Earth in hope to stir something from her still-frozen memory, and discovered that the only civilization she lay underground. Cities were carved out of abandoned subway stations, shops and shelters set up on the tracks and sidewalks. At first, she loved to wander the cramped marketplaces, sniffing the navels of plump oranges, and haggling over flawed sunglasses. It was almost as if she belonged.
At first, she searched for familiar faces: the woman selling paper flowers had her eyes. A sister? Then she would remember the date. A niece, then? She felt like a ghost, forever trapped in a past that she couldn't even remember.
There were times when she purposely jostled passerbys just to let them know that she was there. I'm here, she declared silently as she donned tiny yellow shorts and a top that she spilled out of. Don't forget me. She was beginning to develop a confident strut.
She often found herself pausing in the streets, chin tilted upward: tiny birds perched precariously on slanted steel beams, ready to take flight through the bits of starlight that filtered down.
Above, the stars beckoned.
