Another raindrop slips down my forehead, curves its way idly over my eyebrow and then aims, shoots and scores to the eyeball. I feel like I’m crying backwards, for none that enter come out again. They shall not pass. ‘Beware all who enter, a one-way ticket to sloppy innards awaits you’ the sign should say. What sign? The imaginary one over my left eye of course. Where do they all go I wonder? Will I eventually drown?

I should be crying. I will eventually. Eventually can be such a long time though. For the moment, I’m not allowing certain recent events to impact upon my psyche. No. Not yet.

I wept for a thousand years once. Ultimately I became savagely dehydrated. All the liquid in my body exiting, leaving little but a dry, rattling husk behind. Perhaps I cried them all out, my tears. Perhaps I’ll never cry again after all.

The heavy showers have morphed into torrential rain. I’ve never been so wet. As I continue to ascend the mountain, stumbling and slipping as the sandstone detritus turns to slick streams under my feet, I grab at the sparse saplings along the edge of the path, my long spindly fingers grasping at their ductile branches for purchase. My thin grey dress and overcoat are so heavily soaked, I feel as though I’m wearing another person on top of myself. I wonder who the sodden extra woman is, and wish I were she – the passenger, not I – the work-horse. I wonder too if I actually have the strength to continue walking whilst carrying her weight. The parasite. The barnacle.

It’s an odd thought, ‘can I carry the weight of the clothes I wear today?’ Yes of course you can Keshia. You are already carrying two people on this journey, another one should hardly make that much of a difference.

Sylo and Den, my sisters, are sleeping.


(This transmission may be added to at some point,…or not. That, is up to Keshia)


For those who are new to the Cloud, please read the information at the following link regarding the Simulcast Fragments. Thank you sonmi