It’s probably not true, but my grandmother supposedly came from the moon.
The year was finally nearing its end.
Tonight is the eleventh full moon. After one more month, this year will die away as time embraces the new year, one that offers no promises.
There was even less guarantee for us than the translucent jellyfish that we would survive to see it.
For the humanity of today, days and months are simply things that are lost. The word “death” is a part of everything here. From what I hear, the people of times long past used to hold a more positive view of things. The calendar was not something that inexorably consumed time, but rather was a cyclical symbol, treated as something that comes back around, or something like that.
To put it simply, it came down to data re-use. They took recycling too far. They say that humanity was once gluttonous and greedy, but from our perspective they were incredibly stingy.
By the Gregorian calendar, it’s probably around the year 3000 AD right now.
Humanity as it once was has long since ended. There is no longer any guarantee that the sun will continue to come up, but on the other hand no one fights anymore. However, the civilization that humanity spent thousands of years developing has all but drifted away into the air. I offhandedly ignored several dozen marriage proposals, and today, as with yesterday and the days before, I spent my time gazing at the coastline from the high ground of the island.
Water in the sky, sky in the water. In the sky of the moon is a shattered sea.
As I watched the glimmering sea, I unconsciously blurted out part of a song I learned from my grandmother.
More accurately, the song actually came from my great-great grandmother, and while I understand the words themselves, I’ve never understood their meaning. I don’t like speaking ill of my ancestors, but I get the impression that she may have been a little too girlish. These are times when you can taste the end of the world, and yet she seemed to have been a person who lived in dreams.
My mother and grandmother and her mother all shared the same tastes, and likewise, were all stunningly beautiful. Unfortunately I turned out to be a bit of an ugly duckling. I’m not as beautiful as my mother, and more importantly, I didn’t inherit her girlishness. The only reason that I keep getting marriage proposals is probably because of this island.
“Oh? I guess Arishima’s prince is returning home.”