TEARS OF KENAPUR

It took Marule only a couple hours by soarcraft from Karkasum Bigaj to Isar’s exclusive neighborhood of Bukej Kenapur, but it felt like an entirely new world. Subsidized soarcraft fare was one of the few perks of being a government employee; otherwise, it would have taken them most of the day via The Mesh.

 Marule craned their neck to steal a glimpse of the entirety of the magnificent Kenapur Falls, one of the “Three Weeping Sisters” dropping their thundering sadness from far above at the edge of the Border Cliffs into the tangled mess of the city. This was Marule’s first Weeping Sister. They couldn’t imagine what the other two higher sisters looked like if this was their baby sister. Kenapur was more dramatic thanks to its one unbroken stream falling in a glossy sheer descent, making her “wail” audible far into the megalopolis. The two bigger siblings were broken up by reticent islands hanging on at the edges of their drop-offs, splitting their tears over a much wider face.

 They closed their eyes and let the cool ubiquitous mist cleanse the stress of the past few hours off their face; their dirty blonde hair starting to already cling to their cheeks. I didn’t know there were places like that in the city. They raised their hand to shade their eyes from the intense mist-muted sun and looked back up to the precipice of the falls. A few days holiday here will take my mind off Nik and the oppressive government buildings and stuffy official culture of Karkasum Bigaj.

 Marule could not keep their eyes off the liquid drapery, but their mind was still back in their cloud-grazer apartment shouting at Nik for something they couldn’t quite recall. I hope she wonders where I disappeared to. Listen to me! Ketch! I’m so pathetic. I shouldn’t care is she wonders or not. It’s over. It was the first time they admitted this to themself.

 They re-focused their mind on the falls happy to have befriended the thundering deluge. I understand your sadness, Kenapur. So, who broke your heart?