CW: The following story contains reference to suicide.
“Look, I’ve been out of the dating scene for a while, to be honest.”
Oh god, how did the conversation end up here. Talking about this always made me feel like such a loser. I brushed an awkward hand through my patchy hair, my fingers finding a sizable scab by coincidence. Panic jolted me. I thought I’d combed them all out. God, this was embarrassing. I plucked it as causally as I could and ditched it on the ground, hoping she wouldn’t notice, and that the wound wouldn't ooze too much.
“Um, what was I saying?” I scrambled for the thread of conversation. Oh right. Dating history. The worst. “Yeah, not really been dating recently. Everything was just on fire for a while, you know. It was hard to find the time, with all the chaos going on.”
I shot her a nervous look. She was still smiling. Maybe I didn’t screw this up too badly after all. My throat was dry as I scooted closer on the park bench. The flowers were all long gone, and the grass too, but it was still a romantic spot, I liked to think. The sky was on fire with a nuclear sunset, which was beautiful.
She wasn’t saying anything, I realised. Maybe the smile was polite rather than genuine. Maybe she felt trapped by the conversation. The last thing I wanted was to be a creep.
I wiped some sweat off my brow with a rag from my pocket. It was my best one, hardly any blood on it at all. The sweat stung my skin. I’d done my best with the lesions, but it was hard to get bandages. It was hard to get anything, really. My cologne was rain water and crushed leaves that I thought might be mint.
She still wasn’t talking. Play it off like a joke. “Haha that makes me sound lonely and desperate, doesn’t it? I promise I’m not!”
I was. I’d never been more lonely in my whole life. I couldn’t remember the last time a person touched me. She didn’t seem impressed by the attempt at humour. The atmosphere between us was as barren as the flowerbeds and not even the sunset gleaming on her bones could save it.
#
She never called me back. To be honest, I didn’t feel much of a spark myself, so I couldn’t blame her. She’d had a lovely smile but she just couldn’t hold a conversation at all. I found that a lot with people these days. A symptom of the times.
Plenty more fish in the oil slick, or whatever the saying was, and I felt good about the next date I’d lined up. She seemed more casual. Easy-going. I’d passed her every day on the street for a week before I’d plucked up the courage to ask her out. I met her for our date in that same spot, which I thought was pretty romantic. The sort of story you can tell your kids about, you know? A meet-cute.
“Fancy seeing you here!” I said. I’d workshopped the joke beforehand. Make them laugh, right? Women love to laugh. I couldn’t tell if her shoulders were shaking with a silent giggle or if it was just the rogue breeze catching her. The weather was turning, sickly green clouds rolling in. Typical. It was supposed to be an outdoor date.
“I don’t suppose you brought an umbrella?” I grinned but quickly closed my lips again, self-conscious of my teeth. I’d looked high and low for toothpaste but couldn’t find any. Every pharmacy was raided long ago, even of the most basic supplies.
She didn’t answer. She twisted on the rope, turning her back to me. I’d blown it already. She didn’t get my humour. I left, dejected.
#
I waited out the storm in a blown-out shop front, watching acid rain sizzle the ground outside. There was a couple out there, lying together on the pavement. They were mostly dissolved but I could still see a matching bullet hole in each of their skulls. So romantic. A lonely sigh wheezed out of my lungs. The hardest thing about being the last man on Earth was having no-one to die with.
There was no power, obviously, so I didn’t realise I wasn’t alone until lightning lit the space.
“Oh! Excuse me!” I held up my hands in a gesture of harmlessness. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Another flash illuminated her. She was a beauty, no mistake about that. No damage from scavenging creatures, no bullet wounds or broken bones. I felt suddenly nervous. I wasn’t prepared for this meet-cute.
“Listen, I’d offer to go elsewhere but, you know, I’d melt. Haha.”
Another joke. Maybe I should give up on humour. To my surprise, she let out a creak that might have been a laugh. I moved a little closer to this mysterious beauty, trying to get a better look. It was hard to tell her age, with the state of decay, but she wasn’t outside my range. Sat in a supermarket trolley, she had a certain elegance about her, like a young Meryl Streep.
“Nice to meet you, Meryl,” I said. “Everyone calls me, Burke. Or they would if they weren’t all dead. Haha.”
The trolley moved a little in the storm, and Meryl’s creaking laugh happened at the same time by sheer coincidence. She liked my jokes. This was going great! OK don’t get attached. You always get too attached. You clung on to your ex’s ring finger for like a year. Keep the tone casual.
“Hey, I don’t want to be forward, but I was wondering if you might like to go out sometime.”
Another gust shoved the trolley and Meryl’s head rocked forward. My heart leapt. That was a yes. More than that, she seemed positively eager, rolling steadily towards the exit.
“Whoa, Meryl! We should wait until after the storm, huh?”
She ignored me, almost like she was daring me to follow, to join her.
“Wow, you’re a real free spirit.” But maybe she was right. Maybe I’d been trying too hard, expecting too much. Romance was supposed to be carefree, after all. I made the decision. It was time. I didn't know Meryl, but it just felt right.
“Meryl, wait up! I’m coming!”
Taking the trolley handle, I wheeled her out into the storm, and for the first time in a long time, as the acid ate into my face, I didn’t feel alone.
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