2.12 The Hitchhiker’s Nowhere

GRIM

One night after Libra was asleep I found myself opening the door to a bar in the middle of nowhere- the haunt for all kinds of Hitchhikers. A place where I, a Hitchhiker on life, used to frequent. Old habits rearing their heads.

My colleague, or perhaps he is now my former colleague, greeted me with a scowl from our usual place at the bar. “I am temporarily taking over your jurisdiction until there is a replacement.” He said as I approached, looked highly unamused. He already seemed to be several drinks in.

“Cheers to no more working,” I said in reply.

His stare turned incredulous. “Do you get it? You’ve lost your job! You will start winding down now. In a few short decades you’ll be gone!”

Of course I knew what it meant to lose my job. I already started to feel the changes. When I walked down the streets with Libra, I could feel her boots hit the stones, keeping in pace with me. The sensation was achingly sweet.

“I never thought you’d be stupid enough for that. With an alchemist, of all things.” He shook his head in disgust.

“You wouldn’t understand until it happens to you.”

“Won’t happen.”

“It might, some day. It’s a part of life.”

“And what would I know of life?” He downed the rest of his glass with one gulp. “I won’t give you the satisfaction of hearing me say how boring it’ll be to drink alone from now. Look at you, standing there, not touching anything, like you are above this place. It’s sickening.”

“I just don’t feel like I should touch anything anymore.” After all, this was my last night here.

“Whatever.” Which was his way of telling me to leave.

I would have liked to end this night like any other, like we had done countless times before- drinking, talking, joking about things no one else found remotely funny, but it would have been selfish of me to expect it, since I was the one leaving. I turned to the door.

“I’ll be visiting later,” he called from behind me. “Tonight’s the night for her mother.”