"Move On"
As I recovered, I saw an incorporeal figure rise from the ground.
I felt like Atlas, slipping out from under the sky. A smile broke out on my face, a sight not often seen.
I tried to speak, but he cut me off.
"Please, don't make this harder then it has to be."
I was confused.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well, I suppose that I mean, I've moved on."
"How did you die?" I ventured.
"After you left, there was a huge fire. The time machine was gone, and so were you. Everyone thought you had died. So I rioted. I told Death to get his money grubbing hands off of your spirit."
"And his reply?" I encouraged.
"He came and said, 'I do not have your lady,' and I insisted he did. He disappeared. But still I persisted. I tried again. he took my spirit to prove to me that he did not have you." He took a deep breath and continued, " I've moved on. I tired of fighting, and I rested. I cannot be with you. Please, move on."
He melted into the ground.
I fell backwards on my butt.
"I need a minute," I muttered to nothing.
I went "home" to sleep. I'm not sure why I didn't hop into my time-machine and go back to before Aaron died. I suppose I knew that was not how it is supposed to happen. Doesn't matter now, the zombies busted it.
As I slept, I dreamed of "moving on," as Aaron had put it.
