The shallow water smacks impatiently against the side of the boat in a language thick with meaning:
You say you don’t want to go (don’t leave me), but I’m already on the island; the long, flat grass brushing coolly against alabaster legs, painting gentle brushstrokes on the underside of my outstretched hands.
You promised me an adventure of the heart – an ‘X’ marked in valleys of IKEA catalogue moments. Hillocks of soft pillows and whispered conversations, our faces barely inches apart. The land dotted with boulders and tors; stone-hewn markers of growing old together.
But the map faded in a mailbox stuffed with bills and false advertising, fast-tracked programs to get more in return for less.
I look back, but the boat has gone. And you with it. The ghost of your voice (don’t do this to me) floating through the starry, night air. White subtitles on a monochrome film reel. The memory of a black and white dream with photocopied edges and a soft-focus future.
I walk on, but my body is a weight now, too heavy for my mind to carry. Lying down on the ground, I let my eyes slowly close. Then open. Then close.
Come find me.
Wish You Were Here is a column that combines virtual photography and creative writing to capture a moment from within a game’s world. Click on the images above to view their full-sized versions, and Patreon supporters will receive two exclusive images from the set.
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