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I WAS TROUBLED BY THE OMENS being sent my way, sincerely from the universe. They each seemed to be speaking directly to the deep waves of light held within my body. Perhaps warning me. Or, delivering sublime prophetic significance; foretelling that all would form into a wonderful outcome.
The difference? I was not sure. Telling between the two was beyond one. Omens came not to change our paths, but to enlighten the soul which walked upon it. They were engraved all around us, although we only ever paid attention, when we needed guidance. Omens — they forever resonated in the celestial body above. They were carried throughout the gentle wind, compacted into the atoms our lungs took inwards. They were endlessly continual. For aye, and eternally.
I'd heard poems about omens. Read books. This day, however, I had finally experienced one, in such a raw form. On the small balcony leading from my room overlooking the ground above, it took place. I held the black radio from Oceanside in my palms, awaiting a response. Any response. Most of the time, the static from the walkie talkie was above all.
Here I leaned against the railing, pressing the plastic buttons, and toggling with the controls. I then placed my thumb against the largest side button, silent, before beginning.
"Is anyone out there?"
My thumb moved. Static took over the silence. All of the walkie talkies were in the armory. All besides two. Carl had taken one, so had I. For different reasons nonetheless, but I hoped it still would somehow reach the boy. He claimed we would need them, in case I ever went back to Hilltop. I had obliged, even as I knew I was going to leave his side, that night. I hadn't yet quite understood why I really took the radio. There was little chance it would ever connect to his, or that he would even wish to respond.
"Carl?" I spoke into the object, waiting for any reverberation to sound at me.
