Grey

“Back in my day…” Elliott started, but Emily had already raced ahead of him, absorbed in the scenery they were here to experience.

He turned his own attention to it, almost against his will.

The sun was sinking slowly over the horizon, reds and yellows painting the sky, bleeding into shades of orange. It was the type of scene memorialised in thousands upon thousands of artworks and photographs; all romance and aching beauty.

Looking at it, Elliott felt nothing, just a pit in his stomach and a creeping wave of nausea.

His great-granddaughter stood smiling, snapping photos.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said, examining her last shot and bouncing on her toes a little as she showed him the image. “Look at this one. Perfect.”

It was true, it could almost be real. He forced a smile. “Perfect.”

Emily continued to flick through images at a lightning fast pace, searching for those that best captured the sight before them. Looking at her, Elliott could almost buy into the sunset, into the gentle lapping of the water against the shore. Perhaps if he took off his shoes, he’d feel sand?

He reached down to pick up a pebble and skimmed it across the lake. The way it bounced bothered him. So close, yet so wrong.

“Back in my day…” Elliott tried again, breaking the relative quiet. He searched for an end to the sentence that could convey the depth of what he wanted to say, but words seemed lacking. He trailed off instead and Emily glanced over at him.

“Back in my day? Yes?” She laughed. “In the year, oh, nineteen hundred and ninety nine?”

He huffed. “Never mind”.

She tugged at his sleeve, and he felt the ghost of a touch somewhere; the vibration of electronics. “I want to hear! Back in your day what?”

He shook his head at her. “Nothing important. It was another time. I’ve just been alive too long now, kiddo.”

Emily cackled. “Don’t say that! Also I’m thirty-one!”

He didn’t hold her lightness against her, she couldn’t understand.

He studied her face; the representation of her face. Her ‘avatar’. Elliott had never met her ’in person’ (and wasn’t that a quaint concept?) and he knew photographs stopped telling the truth a long time ago. Every time he 'saw' her, the questions bubbled up: was she blonde or brunette; was her face heart shaped like mother’s?

Was she real? Was anyone?

Feeling his scrutiny, Emily looked at him for just a moment, then shook her head. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’ve got like a zillion messages, and I’m going to Japan with Jake tonight. Then me and my mom are doing Rome tomorrow. We should totally do this again soon though!”

Elliott nodded as Emily flashed out of the scene. He spared one more glance towards the sunset, a tempting illusion. He could almost feel the chill in the air as the last of the rays shimmered over the water, but knew it was just the air conditioning.

He took off the headset and sensors, logged out of his account and laid down.

Everything was grey.


w/c 522