With Eyes That Never Remember
She passed through school quickly and with little pain. Whenever called on she wouldn't hesitate, but in a clear voice would respond with a correct and unremarkable answer. She ate lunch alone surrounded by hundreds of other children. They were all alone too. She was just the only one who knew it. She lived not as much beneath their radar as beyond it. Light of a different spectrum. After graduation she disappeared, and no one ever asked where she went. She hates movie theaters. Hates the cold and the darkness. Sharing two hours of nothing with too many people. She used to go to the drive in, even though she's never owned a car. At first they tried to argue with her, but she always paid full price, and eventually it became almost normal. She would sit in the loose gravel of the parking lot. Among insomniacs and alternately bored and horny teenagers. Sitting there in the gravel, leaning against the speaker post, not listening. Not watching the silent moving billboard. Just watching the stars. Because sometimes it felt better when you paid for it. If it was overcast she would build civilizations with small stones. Whole communities in crumbling concrete. Never any churches or schools or cemeteries, just house after house after house. After they were done she never stayed around to admire her work. She just walked off into the rising moon. Sometimes she sings. She sings with a voice that is more honest than beautiful. Pleasantly off key. If people happen to overhear her they tend to forget things. Usually small unimportant things like addresses and phone numbers. The ones that people never write down because they don't plan on forgetting. It's always followed by a full bodied pause and a self deprecating thought. She doesn't know that this happens. but if she did she might smile imperceptibly, and then go on her way. Singing to herself much as before.