Aroha

Author: Hari Navarro, Staff Writer

An escape pod drifts. Radioactive crystals cling as hair to its skin and a man’s voice pleads out and into the void. A voice where an automated signal would suffice. Futility borne of desperation.

“… fuck. Shit. Fuck”

“You’ve mastered our syntax well, Frank”, her voice crunching through a throat brittle and scraped.

“Why, thank you. I had a good teacher”, her eyesight is fading but she sees the cheeky grin in his words.

“You know I never liked you. I thought you were a didactic asshole”

“Tell me how you really feel”, he chuckles but even he can hear that his words they are false.

She smiles and her bones crackle as she shifts,“I didn’t know if I’d find you. Or if you were even there to be found. You could well have been just another chip in the corporate machine. But there you were floating deep inside. Waiting. All these months now, just you and I”

A warning light is about to throb and a warping siren about to sound. He hushes them in advance and deludes in the moment. As if their silence will somehow delay what is now to come.

“You would have loved Earth”

“Would I?”, he says as he knows that she will again tell him of the beach and that place she loved above all things.

“It’s so perfect, so peaceful, so clean. There is a place. A long arching stretch of black sand where my grandfather would fish. And there is a bunker. A concrete relic from the old times when wars they were still fought and lives were bartered and bought”

“Tell me about the bunker”, he says as the very last of the oxygen fades from the pod.

“Its hidden. All but totally consumed as it sinks down into a dune where the pines contort and shy away from the sea. Or maybe, its the sand that is rising up in its cloak of needle tipped tussock. Rising up to steal this memory away. I would stand on its rough hewn roof and make-believe it was the moon and I’d taste the salt foam that flicked from the tips of the waves…”

“I do so love the wind in my hair”

“… idiot”

“Aroha”, says Frank, and it is a word that draws tears as she reaches and splays her fingers to his monitor and as her head slumps forward and into death this machine he knows he too was loved.

For months or maybe years or perhaps it is but seconds Frank continues to shout into space. Surely they’ll come. They’ll come and take her back home and they will scatter her on her beach made of iron.

The console she named Frank hums as it processes. It forms a thought. It thinks that true love may be a special kind of greed and in that instant it shuts down the distress transmission and it shuts down its systems for good.

A pod drifts whipped from the wave-tops of the void. A pod washes up on a distant shore.

A pod it springs to life.

12 Comments

  1. xdhz8

    Gentle and moving. Very nice.

    • Hari Navarro

      Thanks David. A bit of a different tempo that my usual, your comments are very well taken.

  2. andreavolpe34

    A beautifully told tale of love stripped back to its core. Loved this.

  3. Emma Brown

    This Just worked for me on so many levels. Touching and real without descending into sentimentality. Lovely work.

    • Hari Navarro

      Thank you Emma, glad you were able to connect with it. I appreciate your comments.

  4. 82daisy

    I always love how you describe love. It’s like love for Generation X. It’s not all Hollywood or Hallmark, it’s flawed and comes with pay off. And it’s all the better for it!

    • Hari Navarro

      Thank you. I have always seen the essence of love as being gender-less and just this very, very simple yet almost indescribable reflex… a special kind of greed 🙂

  5. djl

    Great momentum, neat reveal and vivid imagery – great flash!

  6. unrewarded

    wow… what a beautiful love story. Top work here. The reveal comes slowly, it feels delicate and deliberate.

Submit a Comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Random Story :

The Past

365tomorrows launched August 1st, 2005 with the lofty goal of providing a new story every day for a year. We’ve been on the wire ever since. Our stories are a mix of those lovingly hand crafted by a talented pool of staff writers, and select stories received by submission.

The archives are deep, feel free to dive in.

Flash Fiction

"Flash fiction is fiction with its teeth bared and its claws extended, lithe and muscular with no extra fat. It pounces in the first paragraph, and if those claws aren’t embedded in the reader by the start of the second, the story began a paragraph too soon. There is no margin for error. Every word must be essential, and if it isn’t essential, it must be eliminated."

Kathy Kachelries
Founding Member

Submissions

We're open to submissions of original Science or Speculative Fiction of 600 words or less. We only accepting work which you previously haven't sold or given away the rights to. That means your work must not have been published elsewhere, either in print or on the web. When your story is accepted, you're giving us first electronic publication rights and non-exclusive subsequent publication rights. You retain ownership over your story. We are not a paying market.

Voices of Tomorrow

Voices of Tomorrow is the official podcast of 365tomorrows, with audio versions of many of the stories published here.

If you're interested in recording stories for Voices of Tomorrow, or for any other inquiries, please contact ssmith@365tomorrows.com