4:15 pm

Suddenly, it came to my mind again. Why is human life so dumbly thin?

"Aurora?" the rain had stopped and her silence was therefore much unbearable. "Of course you wouldn't reply. I… I don't want you to succumb to your illness. That's the only thing I wanted. Your current state—I didn't want you to end up like this. This… This is worse than death: not quite dead but not quite alive. That's why I helped you. Why did I so dumbly thought that if you touched the sky, you'd be cured—or just better? This illness of yours can only be treated, reduced with painkillers. But even if you don't feel it thanks to the painkillers, the traces are there, your legs don't work anymore, your eyes too… It'll just keep progressing so indifferently. Why did I believe in that dream of yours?"

She was still like a doll. Her head was against the window and she leaned there, just like that. I had stopped the engine but the need of turning it on again didn't come to my mind. For the first time, I wished that meteor will fall sooner. I closed my eyes again. There was such a loneliness within the silence you could hear it. No more sound on earth, no more prayer, no more hope, just the loneliness within the silence that was always there.

"…I don't even believe in that dream now," she spoke.

I opened my eyes, but everything was still perfectly and completely still. Once is never—her voice vanished from my mind so rapidly I thought I was going crazy. But her lips moved after few seconds.

"…Mr. Burglar, I don't even care about the sky anymore now."

"What?" quivered my voice.

"…I'm already fine enough with all the things we did together. Don't you think so?"

It was my turn to stay quiet.

"…Actually, this trip toward the sea is enough to me. Oh, but that doesn't mean that we just give up now, alright?" it felt like ages since the last time I saw her smile, even if it was weak enough to be as thin as human life.

I restarted the engine.