The aim for this prompt was to write about a character who was on the run, in a physical, metaphorical, or emotional sense. I already had a story about somebody who’d had to keep moving.
To all my friends in Somersville
When I look out of the window, this Earthly window, I see not the ocean on Earth. It looks something like the ocean on my world, but it isn’t. So in my mind I see my ocean, my world, the world I am so far away from, that I shall never see again.
I have only lived here in Somersville for a few years. But I have lived on Earth for much much longer than that. I have been here for many Earthyears, since the explosion, the escape from my stricken mothership, the crashing of the lander, the deaths of the rest of my people.
I do not age as quickly as Earthlings do. I have had to move when the lack of ageing became apparent, when it became noticeable, when people started to stare at me in the street where I lived. I moved often, always to be near the ocean.
This time I’m sure I have reached my final resting place. I am old now, worn out. I do not look it, but I am. My body is slowing down. I rest for much of the day, anywhere where I can see the ocean, and imagine being home.
Like the ocean here, my ocean has waves, and beaches, and plants on the shore, and it reflects the moon. But the colours of the sky are deeper blue, so the water becomes almost indigo. The moon is white, and always has a halo from the high blue clouds that give us rain every day, in the early morning. The sand is dark red, almost the colour of blood. The plants look almost artificial, almost unreal, more green and red than anything here on Earth, a subtly different shape.
I shall die soon. I know this. My people always know. But I want to thank you all for your friendship. I arrived here a nobody, from nowhere, and you welcomed me into your homes, and into your hearts. I regret that I lived a lie while I was amongst you, but how could I explain that for hundreds of your years, I have roamed, moved, been rootless? How could I explain the loneliness I have had to endure since my companions died in the crash, the despairing isolation of being so very very far from home?
Somersville is as near a true home as I have had since I left my planet, since I left my oceans. Your ocean is beautiful, but it is not my home ocean. But your friendship, and trust, and dare I say love, have made this small town feel just a little bit more like the home I lost and yearned for.