Amea Virou
Snowbound
The sunset hugged the horizon as warm breezes swept across an almost abandoned beach. The monotonous drone of winds soared through the sand-covered border between the beach’s crystal clear waters and its pearly white sands. Every now and again a wave crashed into shore and then slowly crept back out again, leaving behind it a sensation of calm as Amea wrapped her fingers around her drink.
It had been little less than two weeks now since she had seen an old memory of herself get shot to death before her very own eyes. Two weeks had passed since she had been knocked to the ground and struggled for her life, forced to realize that for however brief the moment had been when she could have gotten everything that she had lost back, it was already gone by the time she could have made a decision.
For the first few days she cried. For the next few she tried to bury herself in work, and once a certain threshold had passed her by she had been forced by Evelyn to accept that she was in need of a breather. And that was how she had ended up here. A thug and a murderer, bound to a reclining wooden chair as she waited for her girlfriend to come back with something to eat.
Relaxation and recuperation did not come easy. Too many potential eyes, too many potential potentialities that needed to be seen to. Paranoia was just a state of mind for her by this point. Only one place was ever truly safe, and they had parked it in a spaceport with the express purpose of not having access to it.
Amea’s fingers fidgeted with the strap that clung to her shoulder. If this was to let things go and to process them, then she had either been doing it from the start or never done it in the first place. Familiar footfalls hissed through the sands behind her.
“You know a shot of spice, mixed with a fifth of near-inbred homebrew would be able to do all of this in less than half the time, right?” Amea 'joked' and looked up at Evelyn as she tried to force Amea to continue this journey into the calmer side of life. “Are you sure the ship is safe?”
It had been little less than two weeks now since she had seen an old memory of herself get shot to death before her very own eyes. Two weeks had passed since she had been knocked to the ground and struggled for her life, forced to realize that for however brief the moment had been when she could have gotten everything that she had lost back, it was already gone by the time she could have made a decision.
For the first few days she cried. For the next few she tried to bury herself in work, and once a certain threshold had passed her by she had been forced by Evelyn to accept that she was in need of a breather. And that was how she had ended up here. A thug and a murderer, bound to a reclining wooden chair as she waited for her girlfriend to come back with something to eat.
Relaxation and recuperation did not come easy. Too many potential eyes, too many potential potentialities that needed to be seen to. Paranoia was just a state of mind for her by this point. Only one place was ever truly safe, and they had parked it in a spaceport with the express purpose of not having access to it.
Amea’s fingers fidgeted with the strap that clung to her shoulder. If this was to let things go and to process them, then she had either been doing it from the start or never done it in the first place. Familiar footfalls hissed through the sands behind her.
“You know a shot of spice, mixed with a fifth of near-inbred homebrew would be able to do all of this in less than half the time, right?” Amea 'joked' and looked up at Evelyn as she tried to force Amea to continue this journey into the calmer side of life. “Are you sure the ship is safe?”