#FastFiction - Dec 24... Moon Sickness

My name is Richard James Andreessen. My first name comes from MacGuyver. My middle name comes from the Bible and my last name comes from my father. I was born in the Prince Rupert General Hospital on a Tuesday in 1971. The Hospital was built in 1971 on Acropolis Hill. It is October 1990 and I will be dead before the year is through. 

I was thirteen years old when I found out I was afflicted with Moon Sickness. A rare disease caused by the moon- I would explain it to you, but that would not be the point of this message. Just know that my time here is limited, and I would very much like to spend it with you. 

I wonder how many people are dying right now and don't even know it yet? I find it comforting that I know when I will die; I can see the finish line, and I can made adjustments to my now so my tomorrow is enjoyable. I confess being optimistic has been the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, and that includes asking you out.

Did you know Christopher Columbus didn't discover the world is round? It was always round. It will be round long after we die, until the sun blows up. Then it will be nothing. And all these people spend all their time saving art. Art, literature. For posterity. For future generations, but once this world ends we will have none of that. This is why I want to see you again.

There is a Maori word: Takahi, it means to walk the land to possess it. I have started walking all over this town so that, perhaps a part of me might take form in its memory. Even if that memory is invisible to our eyes. Sometimes, I wish I could see al the traces of where we have been; like ribbons. Together and apart. I think that would be beautiful. My ribbon would be a royal purple, and my hope is it would bring people comfort.

My cat, Squeeky- my first cat- was deaf. She couldn't hear anything. I sometimes will plug my ears to find out if I see the world differently, but I can still hear vibrations. Humans are such noisy creatures- I think we all could use some time alone with our thoughts, but I think it would scare people, they scared me at first- then I was alright.

My wallet- I removed everything from it save for a picture of Squeeky, and a movie ticket to Star Wars from 1977. I didn't know what else I would want with me all the time. I remember waking up, before, but forgetting why I got up, and then I saw you. My hope is you will accompany as I travel my last days- I ask you for nothing but your companionship, and your laughter- if you so incline.

My hope is the find the Time Capsule that was buried across the street from the Hospital. No one has found it. I find I am saddened that all those people, some passed on now, took the time to ensure a memory would be preserved, and yet it is not. Some native tribes believe that we all die two deaths; our physical death, and finally the last time someone speaks your name. These people's voices must live on- like I hope, my time will live on as I walk the roads, and trails of this beautiful life of mine.

I hope you join me on my journey- even for just a little while. Perhaps our ribbons will leave some mark on this earth before the earth takes its final bow, and all our memories and not memories anymore.

James C.