As we walk, we become aware of a second road approaching us from the other side. The distance between the three roads seems about the same, just not identical. Faintly, at the very edges of my vision, sometimes I think I can see a fourth and fifth road, all the way past the two on either side. But every time I try to look, they fade back into the sand. The land is so flat that everything seems to just fade into the distance, but you can’t tell how far that distance is.

And finally, the three roads merge. It’s almost as if the material that is the road becomes the new ground. Roads radiate out, mere degrees apart. But as they go on, they disappear into the emptiness. The likelihood that you’ll find a road decreases the further you are from a hub like this, I can picture it in my head. But with no sense of scale, no sense of what close and far are, I can’t tell if we were lucky or not.

Lian and I exchange shocked glances at the sudden change of scenery. It’s not much, but at least it’s something different. As we walk, there seems to be a large something in the center of all this road. I guess it’s almost like a parking lot? As we get closer, I realize it’s something new once again. There’s sound. For a week at least, our voices and our footsteps have been the only sound. And suddenly there’s sound, coming from right over there.

And not only is it sound, it’s rhythmical sound. It’s not footsteps, it’s not just talking, it’s music. And this group of people, this mob that would probably fill my school to the brim, they’re all dancing. The music isn’t any song I can identify, but it’s something that you know everyone else knows. And suddenly someone runs at us from the dance floor and grabs us both by the hand.

“You’re dead let’s party!!” They’re a middle aged woman, her sensible blazer ripped in odd places and one of her shoes is missing. It looks like she’s been through hell, but she’s smiling like she hasn’t a care in the world. She grabs both of our wrists, still facing us. Suddenly someone else breaks off and runs to us. This time it’s a little boy, probably about 7. He physically looks fine, but his smile is too wide for his face. It’s almost as though he’d never smiled before, and he’s copying someone else he’s seen.

He grabs my other hand, tugging me towards the mob. The music almost feels louder when he touches me, as though it’s coursing through his veins as well as all around him. I know I should feel bad about it, but I shove the child away from me. He loses his grip on my fingers and I feel so incredibly awful. I can’t stand the way the music thrums into my arm, I can’t stand the way his smile stretches unnaturally. Grabbing the lady’s wrist, I extricate myself from her grip as well.

Once I no longer have to feel the music, I realize I’ve forgotten about Lian. Turning to where I remember him being, I realize he’s staring at me. He’s not smiling, but he’s not freeing himself from the lady either. He’s simply staring at me, and I can feel shame rising through me. And then the child is up and running and he tackles Lian around the waist. Lian’s attention is diverted, and he frantically tugs his arm, trying to get his wrist back from the lady. 

Springing into action despite my concerns about touching them again, I peel her fingers off his wrist. This frees him to insert his fingers under the boy’s shoulders, shoving him back. This time though, the child doesn’t give up. This time he grabs onto the hands that are shoving him, that same smile still stretched wide on his face.

I grab the child’s wrist myself, and yank him away from Lian. Finally, finally he’s free. But the mob is closer, and I can see people beginning to turn and face up. Extending my hand to Lian, he grabs it without a second thought. We run. It could be back the way we came, it could be any direction. But we run, because I refuse to be taken in by the music.