The Solitary Companion

Kyla Lau, 10

“The desert isn’t so bad,” the girl exclaimed. “There’s cool wildlife and interesting… sand.” “Sand?” the figure replied. “It is incredibly interesting,” she repeated, her sarcasm more than evident.

“There’s no need to be here.” the figure stated. That much the girl knew, but she stayed silent. Discontented, the wind retaliated, swirling the sand through the night air. The girl only squinted, trying to make shapes of the nothingness until her eyes were blinded by them.

Dredging their feet along, the partners eventually climbed to the top of a dune and hid under the sky. There was a chill, and the stark difference between the day and night was startling. If the girl was inexperienced, she might’ve thought they were different worlds. And perhaps that was the case, though she wouldn’t admit it.

In the starlight, she could now only make out silhouettes: two squares with a type of screening, a rectangle filled by other rectangles, small cylinders on a figure that lay at an odd angle.

“Standing at the edge of the universe,” the girl sighed. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she was going with someone, and that had been enough convincing for her. She watched the figure staring into the night, at the stars twinkling in rhythm.

“It’s alright,” the figure said, somehow aware of the girl’s blindness. “The stars make for good company.”

“Fantastic conversationalist you must be.” It wasn’t an attempt at humor but rather a novel attempt to fill the accustomed silence. The figure was strange, although the girl didn’t seem to mind. Their shadows questioned whether the girl was naive or just as strange as the figure.

‘Company?’ the girl questioned. Her heart began to slow. She wanted to say more, wanted to stay longer. But there was no time. She glanced at the figure, her eyes searching for answers, hoping to see something more than outlines in the dark. But when she turned, the sand had dissipated, the wind no longer howled, and it was quiet. The girl only sighed and turned her head. In the square window of her room, light gleamed through the screening, and the girl’s reflection faded and reappeared, mirroring the twinkling stars.