Peace for A Hollow Heart

Josiah wasn't sure how much more it would rain. Living in Seattle, one was always prepared for grey clouds and soaked streets. The sky could shed its tears for days on end, but the Sun would always make a welcome appearance, eventually. Now, however, Josiah was starting to wonder if he'd ever really be dry again.

Taking drags on his cigarette until the filter was practically burnt, Josiah flicked the butt into a pool of rainwater not far from his sheltered position. He tried counting the shattered fragments of the Moon through pockets in the TV static-colored sky before reaching a hand to catch some of the rain. The rain had made an audible slap against his uncovered skin, trying to beat him down more than he already was. Josiah sighed. He knew he had nothing better to do.

Rising from his seated position on the diner's stairs, he adjusted his mahogany leather jacket and briskly rushed along into the parking lot. The rain gave him a good rinse that he had put off for too long. Not many opportunities for something as privileged as a hot shower when you were living out of your car. Reaching his old silver ride, Josiah stood for a while longer to let the sky's tears run down his face. He wished more than ever that sleep wouldn't elude him as much as it did.

Josiah opened his car door and climbed in, thoroughly soaked. For a moment, the cold gave way to warmth before his clothes began to settle in his new position. The interior of his silver Boss 429 Mustang was awash with the glow of diner's flashing gold sign. "Betty's: You gotta try it before you croak!" For a moment, Josiah watched the mechanical workers rush from customer to customer and perform acts of great dexterity while cooking. "Wasn't that bad," he shrugged. Putting his key in the ignition and turning it. The engine roared. Josiah pulled out his phone and checked the location the self-proclaimed "mystic woman" had set for him. He patted his jean pockets for the note she had kindly written for him. When he had asked her what he would find, the old woman simply replied "Peace" before pocketing his money.

Holographic billboards whizzed past as Josiah sped along the interstate. just another driver in the sea of endless drivers. Advertisements demanding him to shop here or go there, begging him to join the rebuilding efforts sweeping through the Midwest or on the fractured Moon or to simply join the military for revenge against its foreign invaders. He wondered if the application he had put in had been a waste.

As traffic began to collect and settle forcing Josiah to slow and wait, he flicked through the myriad of radio channels, approving of none of them. He almost settled on his favorite synthwave channel but nothing playing reflected his mood. As such, Josiah settled on listening to the rain beat against his ride. A holographic sign caught his attention. It featured an Asian woman with a melancholy expression (one Josiah was sure he had seen in the mirror before) with the caption in a faint neon-blue that read "Are you still in pain? Please call-". It was a shame the number was distorted.

Several cars honked at him; the car ahead of him had moved much further ahead and now he was holding up everyone else behind him. He muttered an apology no one would ever hear and pressed on the gas. His journey to nowhere continued. "Not much longer", he told himself.

Escaping the interstate, Josiah found himself in the downtown area, buildings choking his peripheral vision. To him, the stream of cars were endless, red taillights almost blinding him. It reminded him how much he actually hated driving. He would've walked but the chances of slipping and somehow drowning were much lower inside of a car. He almost felt amused at his sudden concern at dying in an accident.

Time passed him by, his thoughts as cloudy as the sky. Josiah wasn't sure where he was headed, but his phone seemed to be certain it was getting closer. Minutes later and he was outside a trailer park community in Tacoma. After checking his phone to make sure it led him to the right location, Josiah rolled his eyes and turned off his car. How would he find peace from his tragedy in a trailer park? His eyes scanned the rows of mobile homes, none of them striking him as particularly peaceful. If anything, Josiah could feel his anxiety increasing as scenarios ranging from plausible to extraordinary raced in his mind. The only light coming from several hovering orbs (much easier on electricity than the old school street-lights) did nothing to settle his nerves. A holographic sign hovered above the park, looming over Josiah. "Are you still in pain?" it asked him. The number was still unreadable.

Walking through the rain was a welcome relief. To him, his car was too small and never really his preferred mode of transportation (Josiah would have walked across the ruined Midwest if he could), but getting rid of it was completely unthinkable considering how it was both a final gift from his late girlfriend and a dry place to sleep. As much as he had loved her, thinking about Irene brought more pain than happiness these days. Josiah sighed. "A damn trailer park," he muttered. If it wasn't for the "NO REFUNDS" sign the old mystic had left in plain view of her shop, Josiah would have demanded one when he left.

As he continued to his destination, the sounds of music, adults arguing, and children simply being children filled the air. The residents of the park were certainly lively, Josiah observed. He moved with care throughout the park, not wanting to risk any problematic encounters. As his luck would have it, a problem would rush to meet him face-to-monitor.

"Excuse me, sir?" a black and grey security orb the size of a basketball asked him, its unbearably chipper tone of voice grating. "Are you a resident of this mobile home community?" It's motorized blades spun at amazing speeds to keep it floating in the air.

"No, sorry. I'm homeless," Josiah replied, wishing he hadn't been caught by the bot. He sighed as he straightened himself up, thinking about all the people that lost their jobs to cheap, mechanical laborers such as this security bot. Josiah wondered if they were faring better than he was.

"Oh! Perhaps you'd be interested in applying for your own personal mobile home at beautiful s-s-sunny S-Silver Lining Community!" the glitchy thing asked. As it spoke about how beautiful the interior of the trailers were, the pouring rain splashed against its spinning blades, flinging water into Josiah's eyes. He blinked hard.

"No, sorry," Josiah spoke up, interrupting the unwanted sales pitch. "I'm pretty broke too."

The orb gasped at him. Josiah rolled his eyes. "A vagrant! Please stand-by as I report you to the local authorities for trespassing. A squad car will be here in... 45 to 70 minutes. Please stand-by." The security bot's screen changed to mimic the front of a camera and made the telltale sign of a photo being snapped.

Quickly excusing himself, Josiah followed the path his phone had directed him on and found himself before an ordinary mobile home. The holographic lettering on the door informed him it was a display model and not actually for sale. Josiah briefly checked his surroundings before climbing up the metallic grey stairs leading in. As his hand reached the doorknob, he wondered if he had wasted all of his time to reach a locked door. To his mild amusement, it swung open.

Josiah stepped inside while wondering what about this particular trailer would hold for him. Its furnishings were sparse, as expected for a model. He noted a couch in the living room and a kitchen that looked like it was an afterthought, judging how little space there was in it. He shook his head in mock disapproval. "It just looked much bigger outside. I think I'll take my business elsewhere," Josiah spoke to no one in particular. He carried on, wanting this to be over with.

Josiah walked through the trailer, armed with a note he had received from the mystic. Its directions were simple: "enter the trailer, find the second bedroom, check the dresser beside the bed". He was beginning to wonder if he was losing his mind, going so far with an obvious waste of time.

Yet, what else did he have to do? No home to maintain, no job to stress over, no one to worry about or have worry over him. A 30 minute drive to a location given to him by a shady old lady was the most excitement he had in weeks since his Irene's passing. Josiah paused, having reached what he assumed was the non-master bedroom. He rested his forehead on the closed door, more tired than he had been since starting. The sound of thunder exploded as though it were right behind him.

Entering the room, Josiah was pleasantly surprised at the space it offered. The bed was a queen, with a single dresser beside it. "Moment of truth," he yawned. "Was it worth spending my last? Stay tuned after the commercial break." Josiah grasped the dresser's top handle and pulled it open. Inside was a silver heart-shaped locket on a silver chain. His mouth felt dry.

Not too long ago, Josiah and Irene were together, happy as can be. The world was falling apart in ways that were forewarned in old-school fiction writing; automation was on the rise causing an unemployment crisis, the government failing to handle the needs of its citizens, and society struggling to handle the painful losses from the most recent war. Even the Moon was falling apart, obviously unable to handle the sad state of Earth. And yet, Josiah and Irene were a cliché together. They took it all in stride. Especially when the two discovered they were expecting a new addition to their lives.

Josiah looked up at the ceiling, silently begging for it to collapse on him. When it became clear it wouldn't, he set himself down on the bed behind him. His eyes stung. His fist was tight around the locket. It was such a small thing yet she had loved it thinking it'd be a perfect gift for their child when they were old enough. Having an exact replica of it in his hand made Josiah's heart hurt. What peace would he find with this?

Josiah's phone buzzed. He wondered what else could go wrong before he opened his phone, his eyes watering. Reading that his application had been accepted for the Lunar Rebuild operation had been the final straw. In that moment, all he could do was wail. Clutching the heart-shaped locket to his chest, he cried against the soft bed beneath him. For a time, he felt he couldn't breathe. The world grew darker, his sobs breaking the silence that had taken over.

When Josiah awoke the next day, his eyes still stung. He stared at the locket in his hand, his curiosity growing. When he opened it, he couldn't help but chuckle. Its emptiness was a comfort.