There’s a whole buffet on his plate. I get up to go find what’s left of the bar to share with our small group. Some haphazard fear of corporate rudeness spurring me on. Perhaps it’s a learned survival tactic, perhaps it’s a familial one.
He gets up soon after, following me around the side of the bar, helping pick out whatever it was that was forgotten on his own provision. He reminds me subtly that it was to share for a reason. He reminds me subtly that he’d picked out my favorites as well, for a reason. I’m too nervous to accept that hint.
His voice is smooth, calm. Almost chipper but deeper in perspective. “You know I used to eat everything of anything I liked?”
“Like into extinction?”
“Yep. If I liked fish, I ate all the fish. If I liked chicken, I ate every chicken.”
Neither of us say it out loud but it’s a metaphor for something far more sinister. Despite this, I chuckle.
“That’s disturbing.”
“I know, _____. It’s extremely disturbing.”
The sound of my name rolling off his tongue feels comforting. We round the corner before my plate is finally set down. I feel a bit better. I look at both of them one last time, a small bit of every course making up the totality of our plates now.
“But we don’t behave like that anymore.”
When I wake up, the room is encompassed in quiet. The kind of quiet that leaves a lot of room for fortitude. We talk about what it really means till’ the sun comes up. I ask them questions.
Alien Translations 