Nobody is This Alone by Accident.
Eric
MAY 14, 2000—AERIAL DEFENSE BUREAU, BOSTON, MA
A file slammed down onto my desk, the force pushing a gust of bitter ink into my nose. Why did I think I could work peacefully? How dare I think I wouldn’t be bothered? Atop the manila folder was a small, poorly taken Polaroid of a burgundy-haired woman that barely captured her in frame. Tan skin and dark, angled eyes filled the small square.
She is….
I glanced up at my superior, David. A shit-eating grin spread across his face.
This fuckin guy.
“Congrats, Eric, you’re finally able to divorce that desk. You’re being reassigned to Project Blue book—Phase II.”
…The alien military thing?
I patted my small, sad desk. “I did know we were married. Sorry, baby; I’ll treat you better from now on.”
“Jesus fuck, man, don’t be weird,” he said before shutting the door behind him.
I pulled out the third page from the file.
Juliette Andrews, huh?
“MAY 3, 2000. UNIDENTIFIED ELECTRICAL DISTURBANCE CAUSED A 72-HOUR BLACKOUT FOR THE ENTIRE UNITED STATES.”
Yeah, I fucking remember that. I had to throw out the takeout I was rationing.
“SUBJECT WAS SEEN MAY 4, 2000, ACQUIRING IDENTIFICATION AT BOSTON DEPARTMENT OF MOTOR VEHICLES AND ESTABLISHING RESIDENCY IN CENTRAL BOSTON”
So she’s suspicious of moving to town?
“BIRTH DATE: 11/01/1973
HT: 70 INCHES
WT: 140LBS”
Twenty-six, five-ten, slim. I scanned the next ten pages. They just went over the nationwide response to the event—the measures taken, the people affected…
… Is this a joke? Am I being put on a case because they don’t know what to do with me anymore?
God damn.
I left my office, following the ugly orange-striped carpet to the dull grey doors. The summer heat burned my skin the second I stepped outside. I lit a cigarette, the earthy scent of tobacco hitting me.
Juliette.
No family. No contacts. No previous addresses.
I took a drag.
No work history either. So are you running or hiding?
Juliette.
Nobody is this alone by accident.
