Christopher Kelley

I just discovered this. Simply a half-second prior.

She is remaining close to me along the sun-heated shoulder of a two-path country roadway, and we are both gazing down into the seepage ditch. At the base are dispersed heaps of garbage — a terrible path of breadcrumbs — all prompting a battered burial chamber.

The burial place used to be a vehicle. For some time, it was our vehicle. However, that was before the stone.

"How long have we been remaining here?" I inquire.

"I think… " My better half's hand turns into a fume prior to changing into fingers. She focuses at the garbage in the trench. A tire is as yet turning.

"… not long."

Time appears to be not exactly right. I build up to five, yet can't figure out whether five seconds or five hours go by. We call attention to the wrecked bits of what turned into our spirit cover, changing us from tissue into … anything we are currently.

"See there? Reflect. Hubcap. Guard… Shoe?"

"Looks unfilled," I tell her. I notice my hands are balled into clench hands. I open them. "Do we just… remain here?"

According to my better half, "I'm almost certain that… " and another delay that is either a second or hundred years "… we can do anything we desire."

"Okay." I sound roused, yet I don't move. "I will view the disaster area. Coming?"

"No," she tells me. "I would rather not."

Something like a giggle springs from my mouth. It seems like a frother steaming mud. I feel entertaining and I snicker again in light of the fact that I'm so feeling better to feel anything. It feels typical and great. Feeling feels far better.

I know this is a direct result of her.

Also, interestingly since we ended up remaining out and about, I glance toward her. I can see my eyebrow has lifted. 

She shrugs. Essentially I figure she does.

"It's frightful," I tell her with the voice of a fair barker. "It's grim! It's the amount of 1,000 bad dreams. It's… so you."

"I'm unique."

"I didn't actually."

"You needed to."

And afterward she takes a gander at me interestingly with a similar eyebrow raised. "You need to see our dead bodies? Bologna."

Presently I'm shrugging. "I can take the carnage."

"Seeing your own veins makes you squeamish."

"I like frightening films."

"You like animation life structures," she explains. "However, assuming it gets real..."

She presses her eyes shut, covers her ears, and goes "la-la" to come to her meaningful conclusion. It's a valid statement. Clinical butchery makes me shut down. Yet, not any longer. Not after the stone.

The stone transformed me in additional ways than one.

"I'm still me," I say, grinning. "I believe that is no joke."

"I surmise we are. Yet, who were we? How did we respond?"

I move. I believe I'm strolling. Yet, there's no straining in my muscles, no popping in my knees. It's odd and slow, however great. I'm actually grinning. 

While I walk, she's maxim, "I recollect what it seems like to hear a thump at the front entryway, realizing there's a hot pizza looking out for the opposite side. I recollect trees becoming red and yellow and orange. Dislike this." She sounds appalled. "All green… "

"That's what I recollect," I say.

"Always to say the least," I discuss.

The damaged vehicle burial chamber is topsy turvy and extremely folded to glimpse inside. I slip underneath the earth without digging, spying covered shakes and tunneled worms, all without dirtying my skin or garments.

What different stunts will I find after the stone?

My head drifts up into what's left of the front seat.

"We're not so violent as I naturally suspected!" I yell from the rubble.

"Not all that uproarious," my better half tells me.

"Your eyes are open," I say with a gentler voice, simply over a murmur. "You're checking me out."

"Uh… dead me."

"Both of you are dead. Attempt once more."

"Uh… the me that isn't a phantom?" The G-word feels entertaining to say. I snicker a bit. It sounds not so much foamy but rather more like it used to. "Your hair's in your eyes."

"It's not mine any longer."

"I just brushed it back. Also, contacted your face. I think your skin is cold as of now, yet I don't have the foggiest idea what cold feels like with these new finge.