NOVEL WORKSHOP

Something Has Happened to the World

He felt an incipient unrest rise inside him. It was clear that something had happened that he had not perceived.

This is part of a novel, chapter 6. To see all published chapters, go here.

6

He thought of her. He sighed.

He stood outside the gate of Sander’s house and thought — should he go in there, should he start looking, or should he just go home again and try to write more?

He thought of Sara again. She had seemed a little out of her mind, disturbed, almost. She was not the person he was used to.

He decided, opened the gate and went into the garden. He was fully aware that he was crossing a line. He could not care less. He went up to the front door and put his hand on the doorknob. He could determine that the door was locked. He had not expected anything else either. He walked over to the window. Held his hand over his eye and shielded himself from the light. He saw that the furniture was standing there and could draw a sigh of relief. He was sure it was good news. They were coming back, the others in the street.

And she also would come home again. They — and she — had only gone away temporarily, they had for some reason traveled away from here. It was the same with her. But he still struggled to understand why it had happened.

Was it that he had not perceived something important that had happened out there in the world? — Yes, because something must have happened! Was it because he had been so preoccupied with what he was doing? Was that how it was connected? Had things happened in the world, and he had not perceived it because he was sitting down in the study without any window opening onto the world. Just as Sara had said so many times, more often lately, he thought. Before she left.

He knew she was not wrong. She said it as it was, and most of the time, there was something true in it, he had to admit. He sat often for a long time and worked. Certain days he sat there almost all the time to find peace to write, sheltered from all the turmoil outside.

“Maybe that’s why she’s gone.”

He was sad, but at the same time he felt a little relieved. They had had a little more difficulty lately than what he could say was okay. At least that was how he felt right now. It was not okay. He felt it inside him. Something painful, something he could not completely put away.

He walked out of the Sanders family’s garden. He carefully closed the gate behind him and walked a few meters up towards his house.

He decided to take a closer look at the house of the nearest neighbor, the Nilsen family, Elsa and Kevin, whom he had had as a neighbor for the past two years. The doors were locked, so he peeked into the window next to the door. He saw that the same was true here. They had not taken the furniture with them. They had just left and it was not very tidy in there, something that could indicate that it had happened at full speed.

He felt an incipient unrest rise inside him. He felt chills on his back, because here it was clear that something had happened that he had not perceived. He had been completely buried in his own thoughts, in his own feelings, in his own longings for something he could not accurately define for himself. It was vague, in the sense that he did not quite know what words to put on it.

Now it has happened, something has happened to the world, and he could not understand what it was. It was something he had not been able to catch.

He thought back to Sara and himself. They had lost each other. He had lost her and she had lost him. They had stopped talking to each other. Suddenly, one day he got overwhelmed by the feeling: “Its over.”

He had shut himself in with his work, had decided to put everything of himself, all his creative power and energy, in the work. And thus he had chosen her away, it was that simple, she would probably have said, if he knew her right.

He saw it clearly now, this which he had not seen then. She had left and he had stayed. And he had not been informed of anything. He knew nothing about where he was in life, or what he was going to do next. He was lost.

He went into his house and locked the door. Afterwards he thought that he did not know exactly why he acted as he did.

This was completely different from what was usual. In the past, until now, there were always open doors during the day in houses here in the Milky Way. And now it was suddenly completely different. He went into the house and closed the doors carefully, both the porch door and the basement door. He closed the window and drew the curtains.

The semi-darkness inside was pleasant. Perfect for what he was going to do. For now he was going to write, he was going to start in earnest with this important writing work, this story about what happened. He had decided to finish writing it. And then get it out into the world. Go out and communicate this important thing that he began to uncover. Because there had to be someone out there who had access online and who had the opportunity to read it.

He took out the computer and entered the password. He tried to open the browser but got a negative response. There was no network coverage and he had to try again later, it said.

He sighed.

“You just have to surrender,” he said to himself. “ — You have to get started, you can write offline, as you have sometimes done before.”

He just had to keep writing down thoughts, writing the story, writing down the words that had been between Sara and him, everything she had said before she had left.

He had to give up getting in touch online with anyone. Nothing else was possible. The distance to the nearest town was 200 km and he hesitated to travel there, because he feared that he would experience the same thing there. A dead city, a landscape abandoned by man. Everyone had fled, everyone had left because something had happened in the world, something he knew nothing about.

It was absolutely awful. There was no hope. Or maybe there was hope where he could not see.

He felt something strong inside him. He longed so much, it just came so very strongly over him, a terribly strong longing for her.

Novel fragments will appear here at irregular intervals, as the writing of fiction progresses. For the latest follow me here: https://oivind47.medium.com/

Novel in progress. — The author appreciates comments and feedback.

#5

#7 The Decay

https://readmedium.com/the-decay-a0150c2b5172https://readmedium.com/the-decay-a0150c2b5172