A few hours or a whole eternity. He is not sure for how long he is walking, not anymore. The feeling is barely bearable. His whole body, but especially legs and feet are terribly exhausted. And not because of the energy-draining heat, that makes him miss small and simple things, like snow, so much. At the moment, he cannot think of anything worse than this unstable and unreliable thing called sand, which is his one and only road. Right now, he could give everything away just to drink some cold water on some solid ground. Sadly, to give, there is not have that much. Since the crash, almost all things that he still cared for, were either here or completely out of the foreseeable future, and to him - most likely lost forever. But even most of that would have no real value here anymore. His precious notebook, on the other hand, he would be delighted to get back. And not because it would somehow magically save him from all this misery. No, it is simply all the ideas, all the poems and texts he put most of his days and all of his heart into – gone, just like that. This one did hurt. It seems that it still does. And even though it's clear that none of this overthinking is going to change anything, he is so sure that it was already lost before they even took off. Possibly left in a hotel, but most likely dropped somewhere on the way to the airport.

"I bet it was Johanna's fault, I fucking know it," he could not help saying it out loud. And just like every time before, when this thought ran through his mind, it comes with some unexpected anger, that still catches him by surprise. And he thinks for himself, that after all, she did pack the bags, it must have been her. All those bags that are now laying somewhere in between the plane parts in this god's forsaken desert. He fixes the position of his hat, knowing just too well that the change this is going to make is quite insignificant. It still does, if only for a moment, help to take away his attention from the fact, that so is she, just as well, laying somewhere there, with the bags and many other passengers.

And so, even though the heat is practically unbearable, his anger cools off rather quickly. He did not really love her, not anymore. Everything past the first few years of their life together, to him, was like low-level passive torture. It was possible to live with it, but oh would he be lying if he said that countless times he has not wished for her to just quietly die of some sort of painless disease and just leave him alone in peace.

Guilt - it is dominating his feelings right about now. It is not like he did something wrong. It is just that now when she is actually not here anymore, he feels like somehow, it is on him. And it did not matter how many problems they had, in many ways, he still needed her. She was the only thing keeping him afloat in this otherwise sinking ship called Earth. And now he feels, that this emptiness she left might as well consume him. Because are not have that many other ties left. His both parents already fell to time. There became less and less of those that could be called friends and now, he is afraid that this list might be as empty as this plastic bottle he has been carrying in his for the past couple of hours. He simply lets it go and does not look back as it hits the ground. A smile, however, does come out, if only just for a little:

"At least it's not my conscience that's going to bury me here," he said walking on.

***

The boring desert scenery suddenly becomes a little more interesting as an unfamiliar figure emerges far on the empty horizon. Little by little it seems to be getting closer and closer. For a moment, he simply stops and looks at it, not being sure if there actually is something or if that is just his imagination playing tricks with his tired mind. There is no indication of whether the one approaching is a friend or a foe, but he instinctively starts looking around for some sort of thing to grab, or a hill to hide behind, just to be sure. He does that, even though he obviously knows there is nothing of similar sorts anywhere close by. Unless he is able to dig himself under the ground, there is nothing but partial flatness around to hide behind. He is a little surprised that at this very moment, no fear comes to greet him. And yet, at that exact time, for a reason he does not care to find an explanation to, his exhausted legs give up and dive knees first into the hot sand. Not knowing what to expect he simply gazes into the horizon, taking his time, letting the inevitable meeting come to him. Just for a moment, he lets the weakened neck rest and turns his head down. When a little while later he decides to look up once again – we finally meet, face to face.

"Where are you heading, sir?" I say, trying to start the conversation politely, as to not scare him.

He looks at me with his face all puzzled up as I, holding a bottle of fresh water, reach my hand out. I do not blame him. People most likely do not expect this kind of question in these kinds of circumstances. But it was not only what I asked that made him look at me in the way that he does. At that moment, I realize that while he truly is looking like he survived a plane crash in the desert, I look like my plane just casually landed and let me out for a walkabout, as if it was my wish to do so.

"Thank you..." he says, taking the water bottle, and, in response to my question, points straight ahead. "I guess that way. Anywhere where I can have a simple chance of survival."

Instead of rushing to crack the bottle open, he examines it first. His gaze, however, leaves it quite soon and he switches his focus back on me. The wish to ask why am I the way I am burns in his eyes now even more than before. But he does not. At least not right away. Without waiting any longer, he opens up and drinks half of the water I gave. Then, he clears his throat and, in his own way, responds to my manners:

"And you, sir, where are you going?" he asks.

"At the moment, I do not have a direct destination," I reply. "But I can take you faster to yours. Could, by any chance, I keep you company? Walk with you?"

For a few moments, he sits there still, taking his time to try to put the pieces of the puzzle in his mind together. Then, he pulls his strength, stands up, looks at me, and says:

"Well, sure. Some company probably won't make this journey any worse than it already is."

We both turn, and side to side start walking. The first few minutes are filled with silence. Finally, his words break it:

"So, my name's Sherman," he says, hand reaching out to me. It takes me a moment to figure out what does he expect in return, but then I grab his hand and firmly shake it.

"And how might I call you?" Sherman asks, a little disturbed by my lack of response.

But I never really had a name to give. No name has been given to me upon my creation, yet I am referred to by many different ones. He looks at me, still waiting for an answer. And so I say the first name that comes to my mind:

"Call me Moon. For the sake of this conversation, you can call me Moon."

Unexpected to me, Sherman responds in a burst of laughter. Finally, calm again, he looks at me and says:

"Alright, Mr. Moonman, if that's what you think is best."

"Moonman?" I say staring straight to nowhere. "Yes, I think I like it this way."

After our introductions, a short silence dawns on our conversation once again. Then, he suddenly turns to me and says:

"Alright, so what's your deal?"

"So, my appearance does bother you, does it not?" I respond, catching him a little off guard.

"Well, it's not really bothering me, it's just that it's, well, unusual," Sherman replies a little uncomfortably. "We're in the middle of absolute nowhere and yet you're dressed..."

"Like I do not belong in here? Like I just landed here in a completely opposite way you did?" I reply, creating a little expression of surprise on his face once again, "I know, I could have done a better job. But then again, it worked just the way it was supposed to, did it not?"

Sherman looks at me without taking his eyes off. With thousands of theories, all spinning around in his mind at this very moment, he is trying to make sense out of what I am talking about. All caught up in his head he starts seeking more answers in me:

"What do you mean? What worked?"

"All of this." I begin my reply to his question in a way that does not satisfy his curiosity. "It is true, I do look out of the ordinary, here, right now. But I only took on this appearance temporarily, the details were of no high importance," I elaborate, but right away, his facial expression manages to tell the following questions without the need of words, so I go further. "You see, I was following you since the plane crash. You and your journey, simply put, captured my attention. And so, I decided to stay, just for a little longer. And to watch, just for a little while more."

"Wait, wait, wait," Sherman interrupts me. "Observing? Following? I feel like I’m missing something."

"Simply observing from afar at first, yes," I reply shortly. "Curiosity is a wonderful thing that you, humans, possess. It is one of the main things that drives evolution. But be so kind, do not get ahead of yourself." I added, before going back to my explanation. "I was not going to interfere at first. I rarely do. But your existence, the state of it, caught my interest, if one could express it in this way. Now – here we are. While unlikely, our pathways did cross. The most reasonable thing to do now is to make the most of it."

We keep on walking, for a few minutes not saying anything more.

"I want to ask something," Sherman says after a while. "I just can't exactly put my finger on it. It's quite a lot of information to process."

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"And there is still quite a lot that I could share with you. That can be your takeaway from this meeting of ours."

Not being completely sure that I am real, he rubs his eyes with his hands. When he turns to me once again and I am still here, he says:

"Okay, alright. So, the way I get it, you're not from this planet, right?"

"Right."

"But if you are able to come this far, why would you waste your time on some being who has absolutely nothing to give?"

"Because it is not nothing. There are many things that you, humans, do. A lot of which do not make sense to me. However, among all those things, there are also some that simply fascinate me. See, I did watch over this planet for a little longer than just your part in it. When looking at this frame, this concept of time you all try so desperately to force your lives into, there is not that much place left for wide and truly complicated things. But even when being limited by your abilities and time of existence, some of you also managed to find a certain beauty in this simplicity that you live in. You learned to enjoy things, exist here and now, not looking very far ahead. The lifespan of the whole human race, to me, is like a few months to you. And thus, the chance of us meeting could be measured in an even lesser amount."

A fresh breeze blows by. Sherman opens the water bottle once again and drinks some more. Then he takes off his hat, just for a moment, and brushes his hand through his hair before gathering his thoughts and putting it back on. The sand beneath our feet is now a little bit harder and, for a while, quite a few new sounds can be heard around. I am already aware of that, and he is too immersed in the conversation and his own thoughts to notice. Once a new question arises, he speaks it right up:

"So, I know how I ended up on this planet. But how did you? Why here?"

"I travel freely. I'm not limited by space and time. This is merely a stop on my way," I reply calmly. "You could say that I enjoy observing new life forms go through their cycle of life. I have witnessed many beings, similar and not, be born and be erased from existence. It is an experience comparable to watching a movie."

"And so, this time, your seat was the Moon and the movie was the Earth. Your name choice makes more sense now to me, Mr. Moonman," Sherman laughs a little just as a wave reaches his feet and fills shoes with water. Only now does the drastic change of our location catch his attention. His eyes open up wide as he looks around not being able to believe where he is. At the same time, he finally starts to truly believe every word I said and everything that I am.

"Whoa! What? How… How did we get here?" He looks at me all surprised. "I can swear on absolutely anything we were just walking in a desert with no water for miles around us."

We stop and I simply look at him, waiting for the moment he thinks back on our conversation and figures out the answer that is already there.

"Freely, through space and time, huh?" He says as he finds his way to it.

Being so overwhelmed, Sherman lets himself float in his thoughts for a little while longer. He takes a few steps towards the water and sits down, letting the waves wash away the heat. It takes him a few good minutes to separate another question from the mass:

"But, then, if you can go anywhere, anytime. Wouldn't you want to see more major events in the history of time?"

I, too, stop and think for a few short moments, just to put my sentences together in an understandable way:

"What makes you think that I have not? However, to put it simply, the bigger the jump one makes, the more of their life force has to be left behind. Even a being like me has its limits," I tell him. "But be there limits or not, I simply do not wish to impact the flow of the universe. Everything has its own way. And to me, seeing this process, it is enjoyable."

"If there is no real need to change that course, why would you?" Sherman summarizes my thought as he slowly stands up. Step by step, we start moving again.

"Yeah, I guess I understand. It's a shame so many don't. Now, even more than before, this makes me realize, just how far off we are from each other. Moving freely through space and time? Letting things be as they are? Man, we can't even live peacefully among each other. It's pathetic, seeing all the people that imagine themselves as these intelligent beings, fight each other in countless meaningless wars, for the territory that we all live on anyway. It's so absurd how a lot of us still go by these primal instincts, thinking that just because of some minor differences others are beneath us. That we can treat them however we please. We even blame each other for the things someone else, barely related to us, did hundreds of years ago. And still, we're aiming for the stars. We look at them, wondering, why no one else shows up? Why no one visits us? I think I realize why."

"Every conscious creature experiences these kinds of thoughts, at some point. I cannot give you all the answers, but I can tell you this: There are certain barriers every life form has to overcome in order to survive. The biggest obstacle that every race of beings has to face is being fully able to leave their birthplace. At the moment, that is exactly the stage humanity is in. And to tell you the truth, there are not that many who do manage to get further. It does not matter at what pace, outgrowing your planet is inevitable. Sooner or later, there is simply not enough space left for life to be sustained. Overcoming this barrier is a huge challenge. A lot try - a lot less succeed. It is even more difficult for a race, primarily driven by emotions and instincts," I explain to him.

A short silence falls between us, as Sherman takes in yet another patch of information he was not prepared to get.

"Well, maybe we shouldn't go anywhere at all," he replies a minute later. "Maybe the barrier was never for us to pass. I'm pretty sure the universe is better off without us roaming around, causing chaos and violence in our way."

"Nothing is premade or guaranteed. The universe is not a fan of life and maybe, there should not be any at all. Life in itself is chaos. And the universe – it likes balance. It is only natural that opposites find it hard to co-exist. But there is life and it does its best to keep on being."

The silence drops as we keep moving away from the shore until it is no longer to be seen. The sand is just as uncomfortable to walk on as it was before and the heat is yet again quite unbearable, at least for a human.

Sherman opens up the water bottle one last time before finishing all that was inside. A little while longer and city outskirts appear in the distance. It does not take him long to recognize the familiar contours up ahead. He knows that there should be nothing but sand for miles to come and thus, this once again catches him by surprise. I guess it takes time to get used to it.

I stop and so does he. Then I begin speaking:

"Here we are. This is the end of this journey. You granted me the conversation I asked for. Now, I grant you your way back to the civilization. However, before we part ways, I have an offer."

Sherman looks at me and nods without saying anything but listening to every word I tell. So I keep on talking:

"I know that there are a lot of questions that did not get answered on our way here. But you already know some things no other being on this planet does. You can go back, mourn your wife. Then proceed to live comfortably as a miracle survivor of a plane crash in the middle of nowhere. You will be able to find a new anchor to this place and possibly will live an even happier life than you ever did before. With all this, you can write a book, become rich and famous. And maybe, when you are old and time is about to take you, we will meet again. But the answers you truly seek are what I cannot give to you right now."

"Well, that doesn't sound too bad. A few hours ago I didn’t think I would come out of this desert alive," he smiles a little, before becoming all serious again and focusing back on me.

"You can do that," I proceed. "Or you can also choose to leave this planet, your life, and everything else behind. You can choose to go with me and I will show you what came before, what is here and now, and what will be after. Be aware, there will be no going back. The answers you will receive, even when simplified, might be hard to understand and therefore, might be unsatisfying. You may not live as long as you could and I cannot promise that you will find happiness in any of this. But I offer you a possibility. A possibility to learn and see things that not many have. A possibility to truly satisfy your curiosity. The choice is yours and you must choose now."

Sherman looks at me as if all the possible scenarios are flashing through his eyes. At first, he does seem troubled, but he starts speaking sooner than I anticipated:

"Never in a million years have I expected something like this. It's like straight out of a movie. And yet I still have to ask, why would you go as far as to take me with you? Maybe I'm just too used to the idea of everyone needing something, but I can't see what would benefit you in here."

"Well, you are right, in a way. Any kind of relationship is based on trade, even the simplest one," I tell him as we stand on the verge of uncertainty. "So where I promise you knowledge and experience, I guess, in return, I take your company. It is something I found in the simplicity of a human mind that I did not expect. I wish to experience that for a little longer. You, well, you were simply the right kind of mind, in the right place of space and time."

"So, our relationship would be something like of a human and a dog, right?" he asks, looking at me with a fully serious face.

"Yes, I do see quite a few similarities in that."

Sherman laughs. Then, he once again fixes his hat, looks at me, and says:

"Alright, so which way now?"

"It does not matter that much. The way back to where we came from is fine," I reply calmly as I turn around and start walking.

"The way back it is!" Sherman shouts out in an upbeat tone as he starts walking together with me.

"You know, if I ever imagined meeting a being from another planet, I kind of thought it would look like a huge purple space octopus or something," he laughs yet again.

"Have you?" I say as the human form pattern I assumed starts to blur and lose its texture. What was skin and clothes a few moments ago now looks like a starry midnight purple sky. The quite strict human body form also starts losing its lines until there is only a single mass with hardly any contours left.

"Well, you were not too far off," I tell him as we keep on moving forward.

Sherman looks at me with a surprised gaze that quickly turns back into a smile as he replies:

"Shit, I got to get used to this," he says. "Got to also get used to the fact that you don't have a face or that you don't need a mouth to talk."

"Well, to me, even this level of telepathy is quite outdated. Framing thoughts and ideas into these boxes you call words really is a challenge."

"Oh, but come on, that is a part of the beauty in the simplicity of a human mind," Sherman laughs looking at me. "Try telling a story or something, whatever comes to your mind. You'll see."

We keep on walking into the horizon, with a short company of silence. For the first time in this conversation, I was the one looking for a thing to say. When I do figure it out, I begin:

"Barely bearable..."

"Alright, nice world play. I like where this is going," Sherman interrupts me. "But try incorporating that a little later. Better start with something else. Something like 'A few hours or a whole eternity. How does that sound?"

"A few hours or a whole eternity? Hmm, yes, that sounds about right."