𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖬𝖠𝖱𝖳𝖨𝖠𝖭.

We make our way deep into the purple mist, it’s hard not to cough on its thick streams of unease and fear. Children being told what they are doing is right, that the safety that feels so cold is perfect for them to slumber in.

I need to be quicker, or we’ll lose them all.

open.spotify.com/track/14ysBb...

Cigarette lining the edge of my lips, my match flinches into a single light of fire.

Hey, I said no more of that slow stuff.
* Love, James Carr. *

I know, me too. But we’re working, that is going to put me to sleep.
* Yes, Yes. No More James Carr. *

Change the tune.

Brain fog.

* Memory Of:
Ice Cream. Hot Soup. Relaxing Smells - - Comfort And Movies. The Endless Winter. *

Thank you.

I motion with my cigarette holding fingers - - the trail of smoke off its burnt end almost acts like an extended digit.

Just down the road, blue and red lights flicker into yellow faded tape. “It won’t take long. If that’s alright?”

And the looming Martian behind her gives me a sympathetic look, only for me to remind him I’m still getting used to a shared headspace.

“I, actually, would like to ask you some questions if that’s alright? You’re uh, well no easy way to say it, but near a crime scene.”

As I take another drag off my cigarette I notice I haven’t said a word in almost thirty seconds - - enough time for even the wind to feel awkward.

“Yes, sorry.” I say through smoke, “Just. .off in another world.” The smile on my lips is some half-assed attempt to not seem crazy.

* Are We Okay, John? *

Why? Oh, because we’ve been staring silently as all of this shows into us. Cybernetic destruction crushed in between slices of the low buzzing noise of radio static. Why are you showing me this?

* I Am Not, John. They Are. I Am Allowing. *

I see it now, and I hope The Martian sees it too.

* I Do, John. *

Good, then we’re on the same page. This is gonna go one way or the other. But it takes a step, a step from me, from us. Into the purple mist.

* Bad Idea #0012, Keep Both Eyes Open! *

@comeswithblades.bsky.social

“Freeze!” I yell, although it seems like she refuses to listen. “You’re trespassing on an active investigation - - don’t take another step.”

𝖶𝖮𝖭𝖣𝖤𝖱𝖥𝖴𝖫 𝖭𝖠𝖬𝖤!
“That’s. .I feel like that’s not your name. But I don’t really have time to question it. .Stacy.”

@vigilant-e11.bsky.social

“I’m sorry - - you said you were who?”

like this for a one post starter*

*semi-selective

I light up a cigarette - - thinking that maybe it’d give me some sort of courage to move forward. But the only thing ahead of me is a shadow of stained purple smoke. Floating endlessly like the vast sea.

It sucks.

A little bit further into the night - - unsure. Seems like time doesn’t pass here.

The window to the old shelter is broken, freshly, you can tell by the clean cuts upon the glass - - no decay. Just breaking through.

There’s a smell inside, one I can’t place, like gasoline had a child with sulfur.

We should get some coffee.
𝖶𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝖢𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖬!

That - - that usually doesn’t go on coffee.
𝖶𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝖢𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖬𝖠𝖸𝖡𝖤 𝖢𝖧𝖮𝖢𝖮𝖲!

That’s hot chocolate you’re thinking of I - - I need coffee. If we’re gonna keep looking, I need to able to stay up.

We keep searching until the night feels like it won’t end. Just darkness stretching across Middleton and refusing to leave.

Six children. Three boys and three girls, all from similar backgrounds, all within a year of age from one another. Gone. And what remains is purple haze.

Weirdly dressed. But who am I to judge. I see grass and fields behind her, memories of the sun and summer days that seem to stretch on forever. A lot lighter than. .Jersey.

“John.” I say, pulling a cigarette from the carton. “Just passin’ through.”

*
Art by Sauvage

Love must be 𝖥𝖮𝖱𝖦𝖮𝖳𝖳𝖤𝖭.
Life can always start up 𝖠𝖭𝖤𝖶.

“Hello.” I say, realizing how odd and how stupid and maybe even creepy I may sound. Got to realize that talking to the Martian out loud sound - - insane.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

Lights
𝖸𝖤𝖲 𝖫𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖳𝖲. 𝖶𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖪𝖨𝖭𝖣?
Red, blue. Purple mixing, the purple that’s? - -
𝖠𝖱𝖱𝖨𝖵𝖠𝖫. 𝖲𝖮𝖬𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 𝖡𝖤𝖤𝖭 𝖧𝖤𝖱𝖤, 𝖳𝖠𝖱𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖠𝖲 𝖥𝖠𝖫𝖲𝖤 𝖲𝖠𝖥𝖤𝖳𝖸 𝖭𝖤𝖳.

Got it. Okay, fresh purple then, right?
𝖸𝖤𝖲, 𝖫𝖤𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖭𝖮𝖶 —- 𝖲𝖶𝖤𝖤𝖳 𝖵𝖨𝖢𝖳𝖮𝖱𝖸 𝖨𝖭 𝖱𝖮𝖴𝖳𝖤. 𝖥𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖡𝖤𝖳𝖳𝖤𝖱, 𝖢𝖫𝖮𝖲𝖤𝖱 𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖳𝖴𝖱𝖤.

𝖫𝖮𝖲𝖳.
It’s a place - -
𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖸 𝖬𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖳 𝖭𝖤𝖤𝖣 𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖧𝖤𝖫𝖯.
- - A place where people live.
𝖲𝖯𝖤𝖠𝖪𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖳𝖮 𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖨𝖱 𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖴𝖦𝖧𝖳𝖲.
. .Sorry, you looked like you were thinking of something.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Eaton District.
Heart Street.

Somewhere the blackout is still haunting. People are skittish. Afraid their child will be taken next, there’s no curfew by the neighborhood has an unspoken one. I think Tyler, how little I can even see. What I would do for my boy.

𝖩𝖠𝖱 𝖮𝖥 𝖢𝖧𝖮𝖢𝖮𝖲.
You’re hungry? Do you even eat?
𝖢𝖧𝖮𝖢𝖮𝖲.

All the same signs - -

𝖣𝖱𝖠𝖶𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 𝖮𝖭 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖠𝖫𝖫 𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖭𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖱 𝖲𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖤. 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖫𝖣𝖱𝖤𝖭 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖨𝖤𝖵𝖤 𝖨𝖳𝖲 𝖠 𝖥𝖱𝖨𝖤𝖭𝖣 —- 𝖥𝖤𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖭𝖦.

I notice, so does he. The colors, blue in three of the girls homes, red in three of the boys. Purple.
𝖲𝖠𝖣𝖭𝖤𝖲𝖲. 𝖬𝖠𝖸𝖡𝖤 𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖥𝖮𝖱𝖳, 𝖲𝖢𝖠𝖱𝖸 𝖨𝖭 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖪.

Middleton’s blackout left the people in shambles. Rebuilding what they can when they can.
𝖫𝖮𝖲𝖳 𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖬𝖲𝖤𝖫𝖵𝖤𝖲. 𝖢𝖧𝖮𝖠𝖲, 𝖢𝖮𝖱𝖱𝖴𝖯𝖳𝖨𝖮𝖭, 𝖲𝖮 𝖥𝖱𝖠𝖦𝖨𝖫𝖤.

We do what we can help - - search parties, community outreach, The Martian and I head to Eaton District. Six missing children. Same street.