sunkissed, worldless

12

At some point, she forgets what they're here for.

ROSBURG
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Rosburg had been abandoned for three years now. Fourteen year old Adele was terrified and confused arriving at a ghost town whisked in complete silence when she's so used to seeing familiar faces wandering its streets. Who knew her as the girl who visits the grave. Who gave her meals at the inn she always stayed.

They were starving somewhat, but she couldn't do much about it then.

They ride underneath the overpass, identical green signage mars the side of their entry.

Here it's completely barren and laid waste from the mound of dirt they surveyed downtown from. Apartments crumbled and complexes toppled over which closed off the route she usually takes so they had to do a detour a couple blocks down from the site.

The sun is covered by clouds so she can't really tell what time it is, not that she could ever tell with any amount of precision but the sky is dreary and their bikes are squeaking. They leave it outside, leaning against brick pillars and metal arch. Olivia reaches for her hand.

It's a mildly comforting gesture, and Adele appreciates it by rubbing her thumb on her skin. In the other, they're both holding the collection of flowers they're supposed to give.

The graveyard is unkempt. They walk through the spiraling path threatening to be consumed whole by nature and regrown souls.

It's not that big, but it's pretty far inside, retracing the same steps she took when she was younger. She tightens her fingers around Olivia's, points at the section she's headed. They're here, but not yet.

"I'll uh, give you some privacy," Olivia says, excuses herself to a corner of some random guy who died in the 70s. She doesn't look one bit out of place.

Adele approaches as she does, slow and languid and meticulous.

She's laying down in her Eden about 30 paces east from the cascading willow tree. The gravestone reads: Anya Douglas, beloved mother and grandmother. One of these days Adele might change her name to her mother's maiden name. Not like her father could protest to the change.

"Hey, grandma." Adele kneels, put the picked wildflowers atop her grave. "Pretty sulky morning huh?"

The breeze answers in her place. She tucks a kink of hair behind her ear. "It's been a year, I think," she muses. "I mean, I hope it's the same date— I can't tell if someone messed up counting somewhere along the line. It's still summer at least. That's the only constant, ever."

Adele glances around. "Rosburg is always windy though. Which is weird because I don't remember the weather acting up when you were still here."

She chuckles, takes a moment to regain her breath, changes the subject like she's supposed to. "You remember Olivia? I told you about her last year."

"Well, she came, she wants to. She's um, over there." Adele points behind her. It almost looks like Olivia's trying to burn the flowers she picked from where she squats against smoothstone. "Near that cross."

"I still like girls. I don't know why I'm telling you that like you— I mean, I know— You'd accept me," she says finally, with a weaker conviction than she would've liked. "I think mom found out. I'm not exactly being subtle about it? But what is she gonna do right? I already told Olivia about leaving.

Honestly, I don't know where we'd even go. There's always Meltwood— big city, meet celebrities. Oh! I offered this lady too— she sells soap in Romsey— I offered her a ride to Covina. So y'know, we could probably hang out there for a while after I help her move.