The pair of Marie and Jones made it to Garden City in as good a health as they could wish for and in a timely manner. The train ride only took about a half an hour, so I won’t bore you with the details of the structure of the boxcar or the quality of light therein. Marie had failed to bring any sort of instrument and Jones had failed to bring a typewriter, or even a spiral notebook. They were simply two human beings, naked from their artistic tools, ready to have as good a time as they could wish for in what was still largely considered to be the greatest city on Earth. They took a cab into the city and the entire thing seemed alive, with more moving parts than either of them could keep track of. A small child threatened to steal Jones’ boots. Smoking a cigarette, they gave the child a couple of dollars and the child then ran away. When asked about the trip later, Jones said that this was their favorite part of the journey, simply for the strangeness of it.

The pair spent the first few days window shopping, looking at things that they couldn’t understand or afford, but that would stay in their memories for the rest of their natural born lives. Eventually, they did get a tour through the Statue of Liberty. Marie and Jones were the only people left in the building besides their tour guide, who promptly fucked off after the designated time of the tour, allowing for the pair of friends to sit, smoking cigarettes and watching the sun set over the Atlantic ocean, that giant blob monster that was coming to grab us all and wait for some other godforsaken fish to be stupid enough to walk on land.

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The pair did not say anything to each other.

At first, a thought came to Marie’s mind, but then she tried a mental experiment of sorts. She tried to slow down time. She knew, consciously, that this moment was important information and that she would rather die of something gruesome than forget it.

And time did slow down for Marie, just this once. Blue smoke lifted out of Jones’ mouth in slow motion and the light glistened in through the edges of Lady Liberty’s tiara.

Marie and Jones were two friends, staring down into the edge of oblivion, and smiling in silence.

That, I believe, is the most important thing I can tell you about these two people.

THE END