AYA

because the persistence of memory was actually quite elusive

or, the story of the maid asleep

A stranger fell asleep on his shoulder while he watched through grimy subway windows the life and death of his city over and over and over again. he was a little startled, but she was cute and her hair smelled like coconut and he

didn't mind. he tried to remain as still as possible.

That was the moment when it all began.

An instant meeting of two sad souls, though one was yet unaware,

held tight in the sway of e x h a u s t i o n and violent dreams.

he didn't want to disturb her, but he figured it would be best to wake her at the next stop in case it was hers.

gentle tap. "um, hey."

the girl took a shuddering breath before opening midnight eyes, her face flushed with embarrassment and other emotions to which he could not find a name. it looked like a sunrise of awakening, and as she blinked sleepily before turning to smile at him, "sorry about that. thanks for letting me use you as a pillow" he suddenly realized it was a tiny miracle. were we awake at all, or deep in the strange night visions of another ancestor's dreams?

"it's okay. is this your stop?" they were in the museum district, a heart of affluent treasures and priceless discoveries on display for us, the beauty-starved people.

she hesitated. "i don't have a stop."

"neither do i."

"let's get off here."

"alright."

and that was that. she pulled me in with her and together we drowned delightfully.