Other than the building of little mounds between roads, our walking is uneventful. We walk side by side, and our strides don’t match up. It’s not exactly two strides to one, it’s just that I have to take steps a bit faster than him. He walks like there’s somewhere to be. I walk like I’m leaving something behind. And I guess in a way, I am.

I’d like to say I’m leaving behind the violent outburst of emotion from yesterday. But really I’m leaving behind my hope about this road. Hope that I cultivated for days, weeks. Hope that there would be something at the end of it worth walking for.

I stop to make another sand mound, but there’s already one there. Back where we started. There’s Fourty-Two roads around the circle. Why Fourty-Two? Why anything? It doesn’t make any sense. We’re back where we started, walking and not knowing if there’s anything to look forward to.

“Anne,” Lian says from behind me. I’m still crouched on the ground, staring at the original mounds I made in the sand. “Anne, don’t be upset,” He says, putting a hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off, and sit in the sand. I’m not upset. And I’m not going to cry two days in a row. And since that’s what I’ve decided, I stand up.

“Alright then. What do we do now?” I ask Lian, looking him straight in the eye. “What else is there to do?”

“Anne, I get that you’re upset, but we can’t just give up. We walked all the way here!” He gestures at the place that is here.

“And what is here? Nothing but a bunch of music obsessed zombies!” I don’t know what else to say to him. There isn’t anything left to say. Left to do.

“I’m here.” He says, and touches my arm gently. I don’t shrug him off, but I don’t exactly welcome it either.

“Then what was the point of walking? You were there miles ago; you were there days ago.” He shakes his head.

“I don’t know.” He says, and that’s the answer I knew would happen. Neither of us know what we’re doing, so it’s dumb to pretend like we do. I nod, but that’s about all I can give. I sit down again. What’s the point in standing if there’s nothing to stand for? “But…” he starts, and I don’t have the energy to ask him why he’s trying. Why he’s still here. “But we know more than we did before, at least.” He says, sitting beside me.

We sit side by side, and I push the sand mound I made, the first one, back into the rest of the sand. I push it out of existence. I guess that’s what’ll happen to us too. We’ll try to find things out, to change our situation. And eventually we’ll get pushed out of existence. Like we never happened in the first place.

“We know there’s 42 roads,” I admit, drawing a 42 in the sand. It doesn’t stay very well; the sand almost seems to re-smooth on its own.

“We know that the sand will stay in mounds” Lian adds, making his own little mound between us. But his is too small, and it slowly trickles back. It becomes almost like the least dramatic hill ever. Still a hill, but only barely.

“We know it doesn’t want to though.” I say, looking at it. I don’t add all the things we don’t know. I know he’s trying to make the best of this.

“We know we’re technically not alone.” He grabs his own wrist, where the kid grabbed it before. I don’t add that we don’t want to become like them. That’s probably not the most cheerful thing to say.

“You know that maybe. But I’m not so sure I haven’t imagined you.” I tease. I mean it as a joke, but as soon as it comes out, I regret it. It’s a little too close to the truth.

“Anne. I’m real.” He says, turning to face me. I don’t turn to face him though. Way to go. Very cheerful, Anne.

“I know you are, Lian. I was just making a joke.” But I don’t even sound convincing to myself.

“Anne. Here. I’ll do something you’d never imagine all by yourself. That’ll prove I’m real, right?” He asks, tugging on my sleeve. I try to smile, but I’m not sure that it works.

“Sure, Lian.” I’ll let him try. Why not? Maybe it’ll actually make me feel better. He stands up, and gives me a little wave. I wave back, but barely.

Lian leans backwards, and then forwards. At first I think he’s doing a cartwheel, but he ends up doing a handstand. He walks backwards, slowly. His arms shake, and he comes down. Ordinarily I would’ve been impressed. But although he wipes his face, his own expression betrays him. His face isn’t red, and he’s not sweating. I guess even though I can cry, physical activity won’t be as much effort. I’m not surprised. We’ve walked miles and miles, and yet my legs aren’t sore, and I’ve never gotten all sweaty. Although he’s tried to cheer me up, it’s just reminded me of where we are.

“This is a good thing,” Lian says quickly, this time doing a real cartwheel. “I can do whatever I want for as long as I want, as long as it takes” I nod a little. For however long, because we have nothing left to do. “Hey, I’m going to try something!” Lian says, running backwards. I almost get up to follow him, but then I realize he’s doing it to get room for a trick. He comes running forward, and does a move I’ve seen Beth do. It’s almost like a cartwheel, but without the hands. And he does it more smoothly than her. I applaud, giving him a big thumbs up.

“Nicely done. What’re those called again?” I feel silly, a little. I should know this. Beth talked about these kinds of things all the time.

“An aerial, I think?” he says, coming closer. “It’s not like I learned it from a class though, so maybe my info’s wrong.” I nod. It seems right to me, but what do I know? “Anne…” He’s back to where he was before. And so are we.

“Lian, don’t worry about it. We can… take a rest day.” I don’t tell him he’s not more real than before. Yeah, he knew the name of the move when I didn’t, but we’re both equally unsure. I guess I’m a little surprised his way of cheering me up was doing flips, but it’s not that much of a stretch.

“Rest day. So we just sit here and… sit?” he asks, sitting next to me, crossing his legs. He almost looks like a little kid, crisscross applesauce. He puts his hands in his lap, and I wonder if he’s doing it on purpose.

“You look like a kid,” I tell him. He looks surprised. I guess he wasn’t doing it on purpose.

“What? I’m pretty sure I didn’t suddenly age backwards!” He says, patting his face comically. I roll my eyes.

“The way you were sitting, idiot. We used to do that in elementary school.” I cross my own legs. “Crisscross applesauce. And then, if we were being too touchy, she’d say food is in the bowl, and that would mean to put our hands in our lap.” I put my hands in my lap, looking down at my nails. They haven’t grown, I don’t think. Makes sense that my hair and nails wouldn’t grow after I’m dead. I wonder if I’ve used the last of my water when I cried, and if I don’t drink any more I won’t be able to cry again. Can I even drink anything?

“Oh. Maybe I’m just a really big elementary schooler,” Lian says, folding his hands in his lap. I shake my head at him.

“You’re already big for a sophomore,” I tell him, trying to look down my nose at him. It doesn’t work, since he’s taller than me even when we’re sitting down. He flashes me the biggest smile I’ve ever seen- his eyes even scrunch closed. He looks even more like a kid. I reach over and tug the sleeve of his sweater, as hard as I can. He falls over dramatically, throwing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh no, I killed him!” I kid. Except we’re already dead. He lets out one breath slowly, and I wait for him to realize.

He holds his breath. And he doesn’t breathe. Eventually he cracks one eye open. “So apparently a second death is nothing.” He says, and I shrug.

“Maybe. But did you notice? We don’t have to breathe.” It doesn’t make me lightheaded like it did when I was alive. It just makes me uncomfortable, as though I’m forgetting something really important. I guess old habits die hard… and don’t die after death.

“I noticed. It’s weird to do though, so I think I’ll keep breathing, thank you very much,” Lian says, remaining on the ground. I pick up his wrist, and he lets it flop, as though he had no control over it anymore. I smile, but it makes me a little scared. What happens if we just slowly lose control over our limbs? Lose the ability to move, and then just have to lay there.