Wasteland
an excerpt

I never thought I could miss Irithan this badly. It sounds pathetic, like I’m some weak-willed teenage girl. But I miss him. Six months was long enough, and I was screaming inside my head waiting for him to come home from the moment his shuttle flew towards the Jackdaw. Now, though, I’m not even on the same world as him. I don’t know where he is. I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again. In one way, I know nothing would ever stop him from coming here; but what if the Board doesn’t tell him? What if they keep it quiet, tell him I died in some accident, or fake a divorce – I hate this! I hate sitting here with the same terrors crashing through my head every bloody day I’m on this bloody piece of rock. Why the hell did I say I’d do this? What madness possessed me? I couldn’t even tell Irithan. My parents think I’m off on a mission to the other side of Venus. Hah. Other side of the solar system, more like.
I’m so tired. I just want to sleep, but my nightmares are dreadful. Last night was the only pleasant dream I’ve had in weeks. I’m not even sure if it was worse than the nightmares, though … seeing Irithan like that, I felt so happy, so calm and peaceful. Then I woke up and heard the creaking of the bridge, the roar of the sea in my ears, the howl of the wind, and I couldn’t even move. I didn’t want to move. I just wanted to sit there until the bridge fell down. So I started writing out my dream, and now here I am. My brain is working again. I can’t be this stupid, to sit here and let myself die. What a waste. I keep telling myself over and over that I was sent here to do a job – a legitimate job, even if my employers are complete idiots, to put it mildly – so I should do that job. I should collect every single piece of information I can about Earth Remnant. I should be writing about this bridge, the Caliwa-Australia Bridge, but instead I’m writing about Irithan and dreams. Or was. Now I’m writing about what I should be writing about … yeah, I’m going mad. Time to get going. I think I’m over halfway across.
It really is utterly terrifying up here. No one dares use this any more; no one wants to go to Australia. It took me a week just to get through all the junkies and would-be-suicides still working up the nerve to jump, on the Caliwa side. But out here, where the Bridge is falling apart here and there, I’ve met no one else. Of course, if the trains still ran as they used to, from country to country, I’d have been in Australia months ago. Still, Irithan always joked I was getting fat and lazy working in the office all the time. My hips will thank me, once my feet have got over cursing me. Time to keep moving. This evening I’ll make a proper entry about everything I’ve seen. I’ve only got a few hours of daylight and I really don’t like walking along here in the dark. The holes in the base aren’t that hard to spot, but I don’t want to risk it. Otherwise I’ll never dream about Irithan again. He’d get very upset about that, seeing as I’m the only person who counts him important enough to include in my dreams.
I miss Irithan.
Okay, enough procrastinating. Time to get moving. Up, Peru! Get up! Stop writing and MOVE DARN YOU MOVE!
… Better. You’re on your feet. Now, one foot first, never mind the curses, get going. Good! Stop writing now. Start walking.