[color=olive]>...///[/color] The noise of distant traffic carried through the vacant avenues of a nameless town. Bajbalas skin was cool, the feverish sensation of the sun absent as nothing ticked overhead in a clear blue sky. She strolled along the sidewalk until an instinctual urge to stop overcame her. At her feet was a small figure. A misshapen toy with fixed limbs, wound tightly in soiled yarn, a totem of sorts. She squatted down to pick it up, then with little thought passed it to the emptiness at her side as if it belonged there. Two tiny hands clutched the doll and embraced it against sun-bleached olive clothes, then reached for Bajbala. She secured the toddler’s hand within hers and stood up smiling, looking down at her son’s bright visage; a scant warm glow that defeated the vespertine shadows cast about the ground, formed as if tiny clouds were rapidly hovering above. As they walked, occasionally, she would stop and let his young mind absorb the sensations of their aimless journey. The yellow lines of the street began to vanish beneath a waxing sheet of sand the further they went. At some unknown point their environment shifted; buildings reduced to dirt, wood and mud compounds sprouting from open lots amidst pockets of parched trees. They passed beside an archaic stone pillar mounted on the end of a mud wall and could see beyond the town limits. Unblemished rolling hills. Far off, a glistening dark ocean stretched across the horizon; meeting the hills at some unseen shore or cliff. The sound of a distant highway still loomed. “[i]-it is bigger than the pictures. Hear that?[/i]” the voice of a man came to her in pashto. “[i]I don’t hear anything.[/i]” she responded after a few moments. “[i]You mean… the cars?[/i]” Bajbala released the little boy's hand, allowing him to explore a patch of weeds breaking through the dirt. Now nestled atop the spur of a low mountain which the town folded over. “[i]Exactly, sounds just like that. Keep doing well and maybe you will get to see it one day.[/i]” “[i]Promise?[/i]” The voice chuckled. “[i]Inshallah.[/i]” The spectre heavily patted her shoulder . “[i]But, you will see that nothing can be all beautiful[/i].” “[i]You always say things like that.[/i]” She remarked, shaking her head. The toddler plucked grassroots and stems from the dirt, harmless insects scuttered free trying to escape him. “[i]Have I been wrong?[/i]” She drew a blank stare. “[i]Never,[/i]” peering back towards him she saw nothing, “[i]but I know you’re a liar.[/i]” Only when looking away again did she sense something vaguely human behind her. “[i]To help you learn.[/i]” Her son hurriedly returned with silent footsteps, seeking some sort of recognition by exposing his palms. The sound of the ocean had gone and so did the voice. Bajbala knelt down and inspected his hands, smearing off the sediment as she looked for cuts. He was a patient boy, she thought, sweet and never cried. The smile on her face was short-lived as she saw him inaudibly mouthing something. Where his eyes belonged seemed more like mirrors as his gaze was a reflection of what was behind her, beyond him, or in her, she couldn't tell. Ambiguous forms huddled over a broken mass, yanking at it between them, tearing away bits in a frenzy. As she stared deeper one of them lifted its head upright and looked at her. A grisly feral mutt, face obscure in slick dark fluid. It watched her for a brief moment before rejoining the other forms like it was, yet, uninterested. Once broken from paralysis she then noticed there was more clarity to the dog-thing than ever her own son’s face. Eerily plain, unfocused, at times translucent. “[i]Musa?[/i]” she uttered. [color=olive] >GREAT FALLS, VIRGINIA >02DEC2019 >0315...///[/color] Bajbala opened her eyes to the static ambient glow of her laptop which lay on the floor. The blanket was slumping half off the bed and goosebumps covered her bare legs. Lauren, being the more energy conscious of the two, kept the temperature just in range of discomfort. Enough to sober Baj from the hangover she poured down her throat hours prior. When Bajbala shifted to sit up, a book loosed from the tangled sheets and tumbled on the floor. One of several Russian prints she possessed, most piled on an otherwise tidy desk. She had been bolstering her vocabulary and pronunciation, supplemented by audiobooks and contemporary regional music. The muttering of which garnered some teasing from her housemate throughout the evenings. Bajbala slipped on a wrinkled white dress-shirt from the floor and crossed her arms, making her way to the kitchen through the still coolness of the house. She found Lauren already there sitting cross legged, quietly at her desktop in what would have been a dining area made into an office. The light cast blue on her blonde hair. She was more scantily dressed than Bajbala and nursing some tall glass that used to be a mixed drink, watered down several times over. She was perusing some articles and punching in key strokes every so often. Her work offered a great degree of flexibility in her schedule. There was silence between them as Bajbala prepared a lazy cup of tea and set it in the microwave. "What's got you up?" Lauren droned, her eyes fixed to the computer. "Work, you know." Bajbala squeezed in before yawning. There was more silence until the microwave filled out the room with a beep. She sipped at the tea, pleasantly warm and bitter and took a seat on the island stool. Lauren finally broke from the hypnotic cycle at her desk and noticed Baj ruffling her hair. "You're dreaming again." She stated. She knew she had Bajbala's attention when her head tilted over. "You sleep like a rock, the only way you're up like you've been the past few days is, well… " "Yeah, maybe." Baj said, somewhat disheartened to face it. Lauren twisted to face her. "That's not good, Baj, you were a wreck last time. What's going on?" "I don't know, like I said, work." "You're always away, working. Go on vacation or something. Jeez, they give you that at least?" She labored as she couldn't recall a single time Bajbala took more than a weekend to relax. "I don't think that will be for a while now, " Baj giggled out in a tired way then approached Lauren's side, sitting against the desk with her tea. She kissed her palm and patted the side of Lauren's cheek, "besides, every day with you, Lala, is a [i]vacation[/i]. " said with a hint of sarcasm, acknowledging the trouble her friend gets them into at times. “I’m sure.” She responded lethargically. “You want to talk about it?” Bajbala shook her head. “It’s ok, I don’t really remember it.” "Well, just don't shell up on me. I know how you are, keep me in the loop please?" She gave an empathetic smirk then squeezed the hand at her cheek. Baj nodded in return. They had known each other nearly 8 years after a near immediate connection. Aside from Bajbala's assignments they were inseparable. As her only friend, she may have been more a crutch, a place to hide from a broader social world. "Go back to bed," Lauren ordered, "finish your tea, get your rest, and um, keep the door open so I can throw something at you if you start screaming." Bajbala smiled at her, a chuckle swelling but too tired to be produced. She went to do as she was told and before entering the dark threshold of her room she looked back. "Lala, how long have you been at that?" Already Lauren was fixated on the columns of text on her screen. She took a second to respond. "Um, this morning. Go to bed."