'Listen to my story.', the voice said. 'This may be our last chance.' It's a warm summer night out, and Leilani lounges by the porch, a cold beer in her hand. Now, she's not always been much of a drinker, but sometimes - especially in days this hot - she does like to drink a beer or two. She's propped against the outside of the kitchen wall, the front door blown open. The words waft through the air melodiously : it is a dirge, a lament to things long past and to those that never happened. If she's honest, that transmission she listened to the other night at left her feeling both scared and excited. She wonders if indeed that distant stranger is the voice she listens to most every night. The lights are on, she can see from this distance. The voice continues on, and she imagines him - though she can't quite picture him yet - sitting at a wooden desk, some form of amateur radio in front of him, while his soul gently weeps over the airwaves. Above her there's a cloudless summer night sky, with an untold number of stars dotting the eternal night. She feels safe here, and she feels much better here. She wishes she could stay here forever. But something nags at her soul, this mystery that is this voice and that message that said it was the voice of someone long dead. There were no further messages on her inbox, and there were no further transmissions questioning if she was there. If, at all, they had been directed to her in the first place. She takes a sip from the beer, and puts her legs against her chest. Out there somewhere, possibly quite close, someone is singing a song only she can hear.
When she wakes up the next morning, she wakes up with the uneasy feeling that something's wrong. Something feels off. Again. She gets up, and puts her shorts and a top. She can't quite point out what's wrong, everything seems the same. But the house doesn't smell the same. It's not like there's a different smell here, but rather an absence. Like something's missing. She surveys the kitchen, and the bedrooms, and the toilet. Everything is in its right place. It's only when she gets to the living room that she finds out what's wrong : the radio is not there. When it was turned on, it always gave a whiff of ozone, like you feel in the air before a thunderstorm, and she loved that smell. But now they're gone, like they'd never been here. She feels a sudden chill course down her spine when she realizes what might have happened. Had someone broken in? And if so, why was nothing else taken? Her laptop's still there, it's much more valuable, and she's got cash and cards on her purse. Everything's still there. Was someone playing games with her? As she ponders this, she hears someone shouting in the far distance. She goes outside and immediately realizes that something really did happen : where that house with the guy used to be there is now a mountain, and a river runs through it. Yesterday there had been naught but a hill in the distance, and a small house whose lights were always on. They're not there now. She looks intently that way, all but forgetting what had drawn her outside. Then she focus on the voice she heard, now louder and closer. She knows that voice, it's unmistakable. It's the voice she's been listening to on the radio.
It's hot out, even so early in the morning. She feels beads of sweat running down her back, and in the shimmering haze of the horizon she sees someone approaching her. It's the man from the house, she's sure of it. She never thought he was this tall, though. As he gets nearer, he seems to tower over her, but she feels no fear. He stops in front of her, and then after a few moment's silence, asks her if she could accompany him somewhere. 'It's close', he says, 'and there's something you need to see.' Leilani acquiesces, and tells the man to wait for her. Why hasn't she asked her name yet? Why hadn't he introduced himself? She puts on her sneakers, and goes back out to meet him. Stoic, he just says 'Come, please.', and they both walk off in silence. They're walking towards the mountain that wasn't there yesterday, the brook babbling noisily in the distance. 'I'm Leilani. And you are, Mister...?', she says, but he just gives her a sad smile and says, 'Of course you are. I'm... not yet. Soon.' She nods, and then he holds out a hand, motioning her to stop. 'We're here.', he says. 'Now, let me ask you, have you ever seen me before?', and she says yes, she's seen him from afar. 'Have you ever heard my voice before?', and she says she knows it well from the radio transmissions. 'Was there any other interaction between us?', and she says maybe, maybe the person on the forum was him as well. He just nods, as if saying 'yes' to everything she said. 'What if I told you that none of those people are me? Though they sound and look just like me? Would you believe me? Would you believe me if I told you they were echoes of another time, of other lives?', and Leilani says yes, she does believe him. With all her heart. He holds out her hand. After a few moments, he says 'Please.', and she holds it tentatively. They take a few steps forward, and it's sometime in fall, and they are walking on a heath, the crisp autumnal air cold on her skin, the crack of leaves underfoot as they walk. 'Where am I?', she asks. He ponders the question, and replies, 'It's more like when are you?'.
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