It'd been there as long as they all remembered. And none of them had ever seen it opened. The office manager said nobody had the key and nobody had ever tried to open it, either. It was just a closet nobody needed, so her advice was to just leave it be. But it'd been there as long as they all remembered and they all wanted to know quite badly what was in there.
It was a Friday night and all the managers had already left. All of the over 500 nerf darts had been fired at least twice and all beer had been consumed, as well as the bottle of white wine not intended for them.
"I told you we shouldn't have buried it out here," I whispered. She didn't respond at all, just kept walking through the dark. We were weaving between the trees in the small park. It was late but not late enough that there wouldn't be people we could bump into. We weren't doing anything illegal, but I know myself, I'd get awkward and nervous if anyone looked at us a little too long.
She stopped walking and sighed, then turned to me slowly.
It's weird. I'm standing in the apartment I've lived in for the past 7 years and it's the first time since then I've seen it empty. Bare walls, bare floor, no curtains. Yet it still feels the same. In that corner was my couch when we took the band photos. It was one of the 3 places I could put that unwieldy piece of furniture, but the shortest lived.
It's not a large apartment. I wouldn't even call it medium-sized. The word I'd use would be 'cozy'. 'Big enough', maybe. But for its limited room, it was still so full of memories. 7 years is quite some time, especially on a 30-something lifespan. And while it's easy to say goodbye to the place itself -- mostly because I have the keys to the new place in my pocket -- I find it difficult to say goodbye to what the place means. So many things happened here, good and bad, with people, also good and bad.
That's a good question, kid. Let's see here.
The spacecraft Hermes IV landed on Tau Ceti e about 120 years ago, which would make it around 2140. It had landed in a field of tall red grass and just sat there for a number of hours while atmospheric checks were being done. The crew had been picked specifically for personalities compatible with long, isolated journeys. Of course nobody would have survived the 150+ years of travel if they hadn't had rotating shifts and cryogenic hibernation. However, with a crew of 3 active at any time, for about half a year a shift, there was more than enough opportunity to get into conflict. There wasn't much talking most of the time. Some spoke to some of the 500 permanently frozen colonists, but that didn't help their popularity either.
I've been following him for half an hour now, and we're just about to cross into what regular people call the 'bad neighborhood'. He looks uncomfortable but hasn't spotted me yet. Good. He looks like this might just pay some of our medical bills. I pull my hoodie over my head and speed up a little. My hand, the one holding the gun, trembles. He turns the corner and I run to catch up.
As I turn the corner I see a gun, pointed at me.
Jim put down his coffee and looked at Ryan. There was confusion in his eyes and his hand trembled a little.
"What do you mean you've never seen Star Wars? Everybody's seen Star Wars!"
"Well, I haven't. Never saw it as a kid, never saw it as an adult. I think I've seen some scenes on the internet or on television, but I hardly remember those."
"What do you mean you hardly remember those?!"
Jim slammed the table.