PETRICHOR
Key poured a cup of coffee and came into my room. Margo was in the living room on the couch sleeping. I don't think she was really sleeping. I think she wants us to think she is sleeping so she can listen to what we are saying. Maybe im just paranoid, it isn't everyday that we get strangers appearing on our doorstep after all.
"What do you make of it Parky old friend?" Key asked in a somewhat tired voice. It must be getting late in the night, I wondered what time it was now.
"I'm not really sure, Key. I want to believe she was lying in the kitchen. But I can't help but believe her. Something about the way she smells. I can't remember. But I know that smell." I was pacing around my bedroom now, trying to place the smell. It was right there on the edge of my brain but it kept escaping me at the last moment.
"It's the smell of rain. You know it." Key said in a straight-forward kind of voice that rarely makes an appearance. I could tell that he was taken in by the strange new woman named Margo, who has suddenly graced us with her presence out of nowhere. He was clearly taking this all very seriously. I can't say I blame him. You really can't find a good woman these days. They are either pro's down at the market trying to take you for every cent youre worth. Or they're married housewives pumping out little bastards every few years. Or in my own personal story, they're dead. But Margo. She was different. She was wonderful.
"People have been searching for rain for decades Park. You know it. It's always in the newspaper. They are always trying to find the next step in the algroithms to push us further along. The old timers are always talking about it down at the market. No one has seen or felt rain in over 40 years." He finished and sat long, stretched out in the chair.
"So where did she come from then? Did she just slip out of time somewhere? If so, where? Is she from a time or place we don't even know? How hasn't someone found it yet? That just couldn't be." I kept pacing and pacing.
Could she be from a time that we aren't aware of? Back when there were still governments and countries and races? How could that be? Information and time have been free for over one thousand years. We can go anywhere we want at any point we want and learn anything we want. And people have. That is why people get invited to Mercer Street. It is the time experiment. So where did this strange person named Margo come from? And, where did she get the rain?
People have gone to a time when there was more water in hopes to bring it back. But it has never worked out. I'm not really sure why it never works. I could never quite break through the algorithm myself. If you believe the old crazies down at the market, they did bring back rain and they just keep it for themselves and use it as a tool to control the residents here. I don't really believe the old crazies down at the market. I fall more into the line of thought that we just haven't figured out the information yet. I have faith though. I believe we will one day find our rain again. The people here have made great strides, each generation increasing the progress ten fold. It may not be in my lifetime, but it is only matter of exactly that. Time.
"She is a wonder to look at though don't you think park?" Key asked in an excited tone. He perched upright in the chair now, glancing towards the living room. I was now positive he wanted to fuck this strange woman named Margo. It is such a miraculous thing, love. It can happen just like the snap of a finger. Sometimes you know a person for less than thirty seconds and you fall deeply into their energy, like a warm bath drawing you in to a paradise.
"Her voice sounds like maple syrup. Its nice." I replied. I wanted to compliment her in some way so Key knew that I was with him no matter what was bound to happen.
I had finally stopped pacing. I sat in the armchair next to my bed that I love so much while key was sitting at the foot of the bed. I rolled a joint and took a match from the box.
"Do you think she will remember where she came from? Do you think she will take us there?" I asked as I struck the match and lit the joint. I took a deep pull and inhaled the smoke down. "I hope she will remember." I said coughing out the smoke. I passed it to Key, who was already taking a long pull off his opium stone. He finally found it earlier in the day, tucked away in his laundry basket.
"I'm not sure. Some people would say she might not ever remember where she came from. Others would tell you that it is only a matter of time before she remembers piece by piece if not all at once. All I know is that wherever it is, I want to go there." Key said, standing in the doorway looking out at Margo in the living room. He handed me his opium stone and took the joint. "She really is magnificent though." He said, taking a long pull and inhaling the smoke down deep.
He didn't cough. Key never coughs, I envy that about him. I cough like a lunchlady after a smoke break sometimes. Its get to be a bit much when we find ourselves dipped in the hash from market.