“Kris, wake up, honey.”
Kris slowly opened her eyes. Above her, the cerulean sky was bright and cloudless. A flawless porcelain bowl upended over the world. She felt confused and disoriented as she sat up and took everything in. Brian was sitting near her with a wistful smile, the breeze playing with his long hair. A pair of sunglasses perched on his nose hid his emerald-green eyes. Beyond him, the ocean stretched to infinity, the waves sparkling in the sunlight as if they held diamonds.
“The beach. I love the beach,” she said with pleasure.
“I know. That’s why we came here to celebrate. Can you put some lotion on my back?” He pointed to the sunblock lying on the blanket between them.
She fumbled for the lotion and tried to remember. Celebrate? Celebrate what? Why was she so out of it? The fog began to lift as she rubbed the sunblock on his back. They were here to celebrate the second anniversary of their first date. They had spent too much to rent the beachfront condo but were excited to spend the weekend here.
“Want to go for a dip?” he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face.
“You go. I think I’ll just sit here for a bit.”
“OK. Love you.” He leaned in and kissed her, the tip of his tongue playfully darting between her lips.
“Love you more.”
She watched him walk away with pleasure. He had started going to the gym regularly and was getting more of a V-shape. She liked the way he looked, but it had been his kindness and gentleness that first attracted her — and his shyness. They met while working at the university’s Dining Commons during their senior year. She could tell he liked her, but it had taken him months to get the courage to ask her out. He had been awkward and uncomfortable at the start of the date but gradually relaxed. After dinner, they took a long walk, window shopping the upscale stores neither could afford to buy anything at. He became more relaxed and animated as the evening wore on. She fell in love with him that night.
She put her sunbonnet on, leaned back, and buried her toes in the warm sand. She let out a contented sigh and took it all in. The sun poured down like honey. In the distance, a massive flock of birds swirled above the breaking surf. Other birds were running along the shoreline, poking their long beaks into the sand after the waves receded, looking for tasty morsels. A light breeze playfully caressed her. It was a perfect day.
There was a small dark spot in the corner of her vision. She had probably been staring into the brightness of the day too long. She closed her eyes briefly, but it was still there when she opened them again. If anything, it seemed larger. She gradually became aware of a rhythmic beeping from nearby. She looked through their bag, but there wasn’t anything in it that could be beeping. The pain started then. She doubled over, holding her side as it grew in intensity.
“Kris, are you OK?”
“Something’s wrong. It’s like a red-hot poker is being shoved into my abdomen,” she gasped. Brian leaned over her. As she looked up, another Brian was superimposed on hers. This one was balding, and crow’s feet webbed the corners of his eyes. He was jowly and overweight.
“The pain isn’t real, Kris. You’re just remembering it.” He sat down behind her and gathered her into his arms.
“Remembering what?”
“The cancer.”
The dark spot in the corner of her vision grew in size, like a pool of ink slowly spreading. She looked down at her arm and saw ghost IVs trailing out of it. She recognised the beeping as the sound of the heart monitor.
“What’s happening, Brian?”
“I don’t know why the program keeps glitching,” he said mostly to himself. “It had been working so well.”
“What program? Brian, please tell me what’s going on.”
“Oh, honey, you had cancer. It might have been survivable, but it wasn’t caught early enough. You were stage four when you were diagnosed.” He kissed the top of her head. “I was able to pay for your brain scan and digitalisation after you passed. This is all VR, but the program keeps crashing. You’re not supposed to remember those last days.”
She sat stunned as the pain receded. Was all of this, including herself, fake? She looked up and saw the young Brian holding her. The sun was warm on her face, and the breeze carried the sounds of the children playing. The spill was still advancing. As it slowly slithered toward her, darkness spread, consuming the sea, sky, and everything else.
“How did you get the money to pay for it?” she reached up and gently stroked his face.
“I sold the house and used some of our savings, but don’t worry. I have a one-bedroom apartment and get by well enough. Besides, I spend every day with you here.”
“It isn’t real.”
“Reality is overrated. I picked this day because it was perfect. This is the day I proposed to you. We’ll go to dinner at the wharf tonight, and afterward, when we go for a walk on the beach, I’ll drop to my knees and ask you to marry me. Later, we’ll take a blanket to a secluded part of the dunes and make love under the stars. We’re young here, Kris. Our lives are still full of possibilities. I don’t feel the ache of missing you when I’m here. I know it isn’t real. It’s better than that.”
The darkness had reached them. It reared up and waved like a cobra made out of soot. The blanket they sat on was an island in an ebony ocean. As it opened its maw, she whispered, “I remember you.” It lunged, and the abyss swallowed her.
***
“Kris, wake up, honey.”
Kris slowly opened her eyes. Above her, the cerulean sky was bright and cloudless. A flawless porcelain bowl upended over the world.
This story previously appeared in AntipodeanSF.
Edited by E. S. Foster.
Writing in the third person always makes the author feel like he's writing his obituary, but here goes: a lover of alt-rock, Akira Kurosawa movies, and craft beer, the author lives in Northern California with his wife and two kids. His beautiful wife definitely could do better, but, luckily for him, she hasn't caught on to that fact yet. Rage Against the Machine, the Black Keys, and the Warlocks are in heavy rotation on Spotify for writing inspiration.