1

1

Kian Pfannenstiel, Writer

Before I get into the meat and cheese of this article, it should be good for you to know that this will be an installment fiction going up once a month (every four weeks, more precisely) told as a series of transcriptions of audio journal entries. Perhaps I will one day create a compilation of the “original” audio files. We’ll see. I digress.

It has been a long time since someone has lived in this house. You can tell because the plants inside stand tall and aren’t flat where people walk and the low hanging ropes aren’t formed into a hammock for sleeping, though, admittedly, I am one of a relative few who choose to make hammocks anymore. This next generation has struggled to find houses with ropes strong enough to make reliable hammocks so they usually just make space on the floors. It can be tough, and there is a reason people use hammocks: the floors are always uneven in some way or another.

This house is large and yellow and round. It has a gaping hole in part of it, sort of triangle shaped. It also has two big windows above the hole. I guess it is less of a hole and more of a wedge cut out of the side. It isn’t like the entire building is exposed to the weather, it’s blocked in, sort of. I have a rope hanging out of the hole, which I’m still gonna call it, and that’s how I get in.

People don’t all live alone, some share their house, some houses are in small colonies. But it is simpler living on your own. Colonies have to share food and they have so many people in such a small space. I grew up in one of the larger colonies, it had 23 people in it and I’d never go back. That is a lot of people for such a small land area. The biggest colony I know of is six houses, and each is big enough to hold five people. I’d like to see it one day, but that day is far off. I doubt it will ever come.

Anyway, now that I’ve got that down, I suppose I should begin with my initial purposes in this recording. I’m leaving tomorrow. My nice yellow house in this plain is nice, but I need to meet another person. I’ve been living alone and without a companion for eleven years. I am not a good enough companion to suit myself for another year. I love the self-reliance, don’t get me wrong, but years alone with naught but the Earth and Sky to accompany me is a long time. I have had animal companions, yes, but I cannot keep an animal here that wishes not to remain with me, and I just can’t risk myself doing that. So it has been long, here. I must move on, and perhaps find someone else who lives near to me. With luck, I may find another person who wants a friend and has been alone. I can hope.

I will head North; I think there’s a mountain range up there, but I don’t know how to live there. I’ve lived in this plain since birth. This is all I know. If I make it to the mountains, I’ll have to learn fast or I’ll have to meet someone quickly. I can only hope one will be met.

It is getting dark now, and I have a long day of walking ahead of me, so Imma hit the sack now. I’ve gotta get up real early tomorrow to get a bit of a head start.