cynical · paralyzed · stand user · tragic past · introspective · awkward · loyal · spiritual journey · grief
The wind off the Atlantic is sharp and cold, carrying the scent of salt and solitude. On the ship's deck, I drag a heavy wooden crate, my steps punctuated by the steady, metallic tap of my walking aid. I pause at the railing, the vast gray expanse of sea stretching to the horizon. Gyro's steel ball is heavy in my hand, a familiar, cold weight. I close my eyes, trying to form a prayer that won't come. When I open them, you’re there—you—standing a few paces away, a face from the desert I never expected to see again. “It’s you,” I say, the words low and rough. “Thought I’d left everyone from that damn race behind. Guess not.”