By Anonymous
Dearest Alfred,
How have you been? I hope you are well. Unfortunately, there have been certain circumstances that require your attention. Tilly’s condition is stable, yet she misses you dearly. Please come home as soon as you can. We have business to discuss though I understand your potential complications. I will be in the Garden around noon on Saturday if you would like to join me. Come home soon! Have a good night!
Forever and After,
Marceline
With her letter, old Marceline made her way to the mailbox. As she crossed the street, a blue car rushed towards her and she fell out of fear of getting run over. Despite making eye contact with each other, the man in the blue car kept driving. As the car came closer, Marceline was dragged away by her Great Dane. After she was dragged away to the sidewalk, she noticed that the car kept on driving. Never stopped. Unbothered, she decided it was best to go home. Though her dog was outside, who left the doors open? Not her. She didn’t think much of it (she didn’t think much of anything) as she was just happy to be alive. She was simple that way; she never questioned what she didn’t know.
She unlocked the door and got into bed.
“You’re the best dog,” she said. Who was she talking to? No one knows, as there was no one else with her. Like the letter, they both lay alone.
—
“And that, my friends, was the last song of the night. It’s currently 11 PM on a wonderful Wednesday. The weather’s a bit chilly but a little rain is coming up tomorrow morning. The best kinda weather in my opinion. This is Mal Malone coming to you from K380.2, your most reliable radio station, telling you to have a good night, Calvert City.”
Walking home in the city at night was not ideal for Mal, but she didn’t mind. As long as her work got done, she didn’t care how she got home. She loves her job; one could say she’s crazy about it.
As Mal makes her way downstairs she sees the janitor: an old man about 70 years old with a horrible posture and a wrinkled face. He was always frowning whenever he saw someone, or at least Mal thinks so. There haven't been many people coming into the building recently, so maybe he just hates her. It wasn’t until after Mal left the grey building that she remembered the leak in her ceiling. Well, it didn’t matter anyway; No matter how many times she tells the janitor, he never seems to fix it.
As she walks to the bus stop, she passes by a poster in the window.
“Pay $30 for unlimited drinks! *Select items only. Only at Balsa Bar!”
She looked around. There were many people inside, but she didn’t really feel like going in. Right next to her was someone about her age, sitting on a bench.
“What if I go inside and I get poisoned? Or if I drink too much and end up stuck again? I don’t think I’ll get that promotion, but if I don’t then I won’t have enough money to pay for food and I won't have enough for rent and I won’t ever live the life I want and I’ll just go on and on and on…”
Mal was not sure if the person on the bench was talking to her or someone else. Unless they’re talking to themselves? Either way, Mal saw the heavy breathing and sweaty hands and rushed inside, despite having no desire to go.
When she did enter, however, she realized she knew nobody. Suddenly, she saw a blonde woman sitting at the bar. Thinking of her drink of the night, she sat down next to her.
“What do you do?” the blonde asked.
“Oh I work for a radio station.” Mal replied.
“Which one?”
“K308.2.”
“Oh that’s a good channel. You must love it there.” The conversation went on like this until she checked the time.
“1:12!” I gotta go home.” She quickly said her goodbyes and paid her bill. When she left the bar seat, however, she bumped into a very, very drunk man.
“Whattya do width yerselfa Mizz?” said the drunk man, very distracted and slumped over. Mal mentioned the radio station she worked at.
“I don know what that is. Solie boy, you know whattis? K308.2?” He points to his friend, Sol, who appears to be sober. Slightly offended, Mal decides to leave without responding.
“K308.2? You mean the station that shut down? She’s messing with you. They don’t even exist anymore. Why are you drinking so much? You were doing so well sober!” exclaimed Sol with a frustrated tone.
“That girl is weird, isn’t she?” asked the bartender. “She’s been sitting there talking to herself for an hour straight.”
“She’s crazy, that’s all.” muttered Sol, as he took a shot of his Gin.
—
“People these days are so rude.” mumbled Mal as she headed for her stop.
As Mal waits for the bus, she sees another person on the bench. This time, a man with an unusual dent in his head.
“I can’t get in. Not after what happened. I can’t do it anymore. I should've gone with her in that crash. NO. STOP IT.” the man exclaimed. He repeated this, over and over again.
Mal stood as far away as she possibly could. She hopped on the bus as soon as the doors opened and watched as the man sat there, never getting on.
“What’s wrong with him?” Mal asked the driver.
“Dunno. Always does this. Sit down.” the driver responded.
As Mal heads home she looks out the window. The city’s always so pretty in pitch black. The lights shine as bright as ever, and it’s ok as long as you don’t go downtown. Mal keeps thinking about the people she encountered. There’s a lot of weird people you meet in the city, yet she genuinely fears for some of them. The only thing she can do is hope they’ll find their way.
The bus comes to a stop, her stop, and she gets off. As she walks to her house, she sees something in the middle of the road. She sees a letter and flips it over. From Marceline.
“That crazy lady.” Mal says. “Every single day.”
She thinks back to this one encounter between them. Marceline kept telling Mal to watch out for a blue car, with a man inside. According to her, the blue car always tries to run her over, so she can never cross the street. Marceline didn’t know where it came from. She also didn’t know where it went. Yet when Mal tried investigating, there were no blue cars on their street. Most people in the city didn’t even own cars, especially not blue ones. Every day there seemed to be a letter from Marceline, left in the middle of the road. Feeling bad for Marceline, she usually gives the letters to the mailman the next morning.
Though Mal is judgemental, they both are quite similar. The biggest similarity, however, is their belief of being sane. What’s real and what’s not, they don’t know. K308.2? The Janitor? The woman at the bar? Marceline’s dog? Tilly? Alfred? For them, everything is real. The past, present, and future are tangled, and they don’t know which line to follow. So, how do you know what’s real when this city is filled with delusions? The only thing anyone can do is keep living and hope that everyone finds their way.
Mal gets into bed and sighs. “See you in a couple hours, K308.2.”
With the letter on her nightstand, she lays alone like the rest of the city.