The Disappearing Block

I knew it was only a matter of time before I disappeared into the world forever, just like I had started. Lost to time.

From ash to ash, then dust to dust. My entire life had turned a nauseating pile of mush leaving city blocks of our story vanishing into another shifting tide.

Hopefully it will all work out the same for you, too. It’s the best I could hope.

After all, it was a dark, gloomy, well-intended day when your scarf snaked its way across my banister.

Signaling your furtive presence. One I failed to ignore. One that left me incensed.

The dusty baseboards and hobbled cobwebs now lie where we used to on a barren, empty bed.

I never meant to cause any hurt or discomfort, but you should know, it was never about you. Maybe still, even worse, it was never about me.

“wipe my search history, erase my tracks,”

“wipe my search history, erase my tracks,”

“wipe my search history, erase my tracks,”

The words played in my head like a loop—over and over and over again until I couldn’t take it anymore.

The instructions were simple enough. Until they weren’t. Three repetitive actions were all I needed to remember what should have come next—an easy task to follow through. Like a knock. This wouldn’t be simple magic, or a wave of a wand. There couldn’t be a trail left behind to string you along or pull me back into all our old ways.

Once I was gone, I had to leave.

The instructions were clear. It wasn’t as painless as standing tall and imagining yourself just slim enough to slip between two bricks. This sort of disappearing needed much stronger antics. Not a simple slip of faith.

An entire block, an entire street must be devoured, dedicated to just this one thing.

The note read: “Meet me at the end, nearest the quarry. Where your new life awaits.”

The instructions seemed too good to be true. This had to be a test.

Could one really just start their life over, just like that? What happens next?