The City is a place where everything resets after the lights have gone out: relationships, conversations, memories. Everything is inside an irreversible loop and no one knows it. All except for one girl.
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Jule, a resident of the City...
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I shoveled cereal bits into my mouth, reading from the box ingredients I aim to memorize over the next few days. Along with the contents of my shampoo and the dish washing soap, these were the only things that I haven't memorized, yet.
It's ridiculous, I know, but what could I do? I was bored.
I decided to hole up in my house today. I'm going to spend the whole day lying on the couch, eating nothing but that bucket of popcorn and my last stack of Cocoreos.
I didn't even bother changing out of my thin pajamas, the trains in the design flashing their wicked grins at me. Over the days, I learned to ignore the pattern but there were still times when they creeped me out.
I don't like trains.
Why, oh why, would I have to be stuck in a loop wearing train-speckled nightwear? Ugh.
Either way, I couldn't help but notice that the cereal I was eating actually has taste. I smacked my lips to confirm and yes, I could taste stuff again.
It's not that I forgot the taste, no. It's just that I've been eating this for so long that I subconsciously turned off my tasting capacities to avoid getting tired of it.
Now, my taste buds were working again, somehow seeming like they're telling me to live a little. Living was tasting, they seemed to scream at me. I guess that's that.
I finished eating breakfast and plopped back onto the couch.
The mess I made the other day, back when I threw a tantrum, was already cleaned and fixed. Fixing my mess seemed to be the only thing the reset was good for. I could burn the entire City and it will be fixed by tomorrow.
Which I already did, for the record. I have the recount of that event somewhere in my diary, too.
Such an interesting time, my wild phase was.
No matter. Today, I'm just going to watch TV. Flip through a few channels. And oh, I have to check if I still have that episode of Resha: The Sword of Destiny memorized. That's a fun thing to do whenever I ran out of stuff to distract myself with.
I thumbed the next channel button in the remote and began the day. I reached the channel playing Resha at the right window time. The iconic opening song played. I danced to it, not caring if the curtains by my windows were open and that any passerby could see me dancing like I'm possessed.
Perhaps, doing this could finally get me a taste of Pastor Frank's famed holy water.
Kidding.
The episode rolled out, my mouth and my memory going along with it. I knew every line, every feeling, and every movement. I imitated some, like the one where Resha, the titular character, transforms into a goddess-ish thing.
I laughed at my own silliness. Resha jumped and slashed with her sword. I did the same. Resha jumped back to avoid her opponent's swing. I imitated her only to hit the back of my shins against the low-lying table.
