Epilogue 8

The days, if you can call them that, are long, and flow endlessly, timelessly into one another. There is no bliss of sleep to delineate or help forget the rigours of the day - there is just one long today.

I spend most of my time wandering, listlessly visiting the places I had been, and I don't know why I do, because they fill me with such sadness and emptiness. I cannot abide the detachment, and even the loneliness I once pretended to relish now just aches unbearably.

My favourite times are the occasions I happen to meet Amy. She is still the only soul I can more than just sense. The “others” remain distant though often I feel I can detect fragrances, emotions, and nuances of their beings, like the glimpses of a rainbow through a haze of clouds. Mostly it is sadness I feel, tinged with regret, but sometimes there is something darker, a terribly hatred awash with an evil that seems to draw you in like a dreadful despair, spiralling ever downwards.

Amy however is my ray of sunshine, reminding me so fondly of my little Jojo, impish in her laughter, relentless in her teasing, and full of irreverent mirth. I asked her if she thought we could interact with the living. She looked at me a long time before replying with a twinkle in her voice, “Now why would you want to do that I wonder?”

I think I blushed, or whatever it is called over here.