WARNING NSFW (18+) Some Light Sexually Explicit Content

Sci-Fi – Slice of Life – 20 Minute Read

Saturdays had always been West’s favorite day of the week. Admittedly, they hadn’t been quite the same for the past little bit…but that’s not worth focusing on because today was about as perfect as it could have been in this season of life.

A jolt of pain in his knee stopped him from running after the car and telling those boys to strap in because, apparently, Miko and Ryu couldn’t see his exaggerated gesture to buckle up even though they were pressed against the car window, waving goodbye to him.

How many times have I told them they always need to buckle up? Han shouldn’t let that car move until they were strapped, just like I’d always done to him. Just because cars drive themselves doesn’t mean there aren’t crashes anymore. If something happened to those boys…

West shuttered at the thought, forced himself to smile, gave one last signal to buckle up, and then gave up and waved back.

They’ll be fine, don’t dwell on the negative.

Han was the only one who didn’t wave- hadn’t even looked at West when he pulled in to get the boys. You can always tell when someone isn’t looking past their E.Y.E.S. West hated the things, especially now that they could be permanently installed, or just as bad, you could take them in and out like contacts. Either way, it was annoying because, at first, you couldn’t tell if someone was wearing them or not— though West wasn’t sure if the people who could take them out ever did. 

People talk about how E.Y.E.S. help you read people’s emotions, and they translate language in real time, whether it’s reading or audio. E.Y.E.S show you your health statistics, which they say improves your overall health and productivity— but none of that was what they’re actually used for. 

E.Y.E.S. are just used so that people never have to stop being entertained and for companies to never stop getting ad revenue. They allow you to customize and augment the world around you, allowing you to live in a fantasy land rather than face reality. No one was willing to just be present and accept life as it is right here and now and see the beauty in that.

People say that technology advances civilization, but looking at how Han, his sweet athletic boy who never stopped moving and who played every sport he could, had turned into…this… well, there was just no convincing West that these E.Y.E.S improved anything- especially health.

West walked under the shade of the large tree in the yard and slowly eased himself into the old faux wooden bench. He grimaced as his knee tweaked and gave out midway down, causing him to slam a little too hard into the seat.

“I don’t need a computer to tell me my knee hurts.” He halfway thought and halfway grumbled to himself.

You’re being too negative. He berated himself. ‘The negative mind will never give you a positive life.‘ He took three deep breaths to recenter himself.

When he opened his eyes, it occurred to him that it was hot. Once, he would have complained about the heat, but now he had hardly noticed it. Now that’s something to be grateful for.

On top of that, when he was sitting, his knee didn’t really bother him…too much. He still had to stretch his leg out, and it would painfully pop when he did, but it offered a little relief. It wasn’t as painless as it —

Nope! Too negative.

It was his own knee, and he could still walk, and he was grateful for that.

And, he could sit under the shade of the tree and look around at the open yard and soak it all in. His yard, exactly how he’d always wanted it…

His smile slowly became flat.

After all these years, he’d gotten used to all this, but every so often, the empty space became a canvas for his memories.

West would never call it a regret, but if he could go back, he may do things a little differently. He was always in such a hurry to get to the next thing, the next season, to make the house exactly what he wanted it to be. 

As soon the kids outgrew the toys they’d been playing with, he threw them away, relieved to have the space become what HE wanted it to be. And now, though he did feel a small sense of pride at the garden he had built… it was almost hollow. 

The yard didn’t have real grass, but it did have the only real flowers in the neighborhood.

West’s smile returned and became a little laugh as he watched the memory of their first dog, Kino, chasing him with Han on his shoulders when Han was what? Three? Kino wouldn’t stop barking and nipping at his heels; it was that shepherd in him coming out. Han’s contagious giggling didn’t stop the whole time they ran around. If that garden had been here back then, the three of them would have completely destroyed it. In his mind’s eye, West could still hear Strawberry Swing on the speaker, and he could still see Aurora just sitting there smiling as she watched them play. The thought of her smile was always enough to bring one to him.

I’m ready for you to be home. What a day! So much to tell you.

After all these years, he still loved his wife—which, if he’d learned anything from playing go with the old crones every Tuesday afternoon, it was that not everyone loved their partner, especially after spending their life with them.

West looked to the tree he sat by and pet the coarse bark. The branch above him was the same branch they’d had that swing for a few years. The kids loved that swing…

But the second it went a few weeks without being used, West had taken it down. They asked him so many times to put it back, but he never did. It would be nice to sit in right now. It had been a long time since he’d played on a swing.

West grunted as he pressed his hands into the armrests and actively drove his feet into the ground as he stood. He had to do that now, really think about the mechanics of standing.

He took the long way to the house so he could cross the little bridge that went over the pond he’d built in the middle of the yard. The pond had replaced the play castle that Han and his sister—

West gulped the swelling of his throat down and blinked the stinging in his eyes away. Even after all these years, there were just days he couldn’t bring himself to even think of her name. 

He distracted himself by looking past his house and through the towering buildings at the Elevator. That Elevator hadn’t been here fifty years ago when they first moved into this house.

Fifty years? Impossible.

But he knew it was true enough. Time went too fast. Aurora had always wanted to take the Elevator to space and just vacation at the station. She didn’t want to go to another planet, just see the stars and experience space, but they could never make it happen. Or rather, they never really tried to make it happen. It was always ‘next year’ or ‘one day’ or ‘when this or that happened.’ And now…well, they just hadn’t actually done it. He was almost seventy, and that just seemed ridiculous. 

He stopped walking on that little bridge and soaked it all in. He was content here, in this house, with this yard, with the life he had built with Aurora.

“What a good life we’ve had,” he said to his house and yard of nearly fifty years.

West wanted Aurora to come now, but he’d do the dishes and clean up from the boys before she came. He went into the house and faced the well-lived home. And by well-lived, he meant chaotic— but he loved it.

Like every parent, he used to complain about always having a messy house when his kids were little, but now these moments of cleaning after his grandkids had strangely become some of the most precious in his life.

Who knew how many more opportunities he’d have to clean up chess pieces that had been used as toys rather than game pieces? How many more times will flour spill in the small crack between the oven and the counter because of the untrained little hands that helped him? 

I can’t wait to tell you about the day when you get here. West smiled at the thought of seeing his wife. It was wonderful — I wish you could have been here. The boys even took their E.Y.E.S. out— I still think they’re too young for all that, but Han doesn’t listen— but they actually took them out without a fight when I asked, and gosh— it made such a difference. They didn’t just sit there like zombies flicking their eyes around the room— they played, they laughed- they really lived. 

West put the chess pieces in their designated place and found a few black go pieces the boys must have missed after spilling the game on the floor.

We talked about the difference between strategies and tactics and played board games for most of the day. We cooked their favorite dessert, those old apple cinnamon dumplings your mom used to make, which have somehow now become the apple cinnamon dumplings Grandpa makes. I wanted to wrestle and go climbing, but— 

As if to complete the thought, his knee gave out under him as he bent down to pick up a go piece in the corner. It did that every now and then.

Some things just don’t work as well as they used to, but that’s just the thing with getting old — it doesn’t matter what those ads say. ‘Do you want to live forever?’ Bah! I’ll be glad to die in my own body. 

West fought to stand and then folded the blankets that took over the living room. The second blanket he folded was actually his when he was a boy. West’s mom had made the blanket for him when he was born, and when Han was born, West passed the blanket on to him. Now, Han’s boys use it when they come over. 

Usually, he’d wash the blanket and store it in the closet until the boys came over next, but he had a different idea today.

West started towards his room but was stopped, confronted by his enemy. Have there always been this many stairs?

He took a deep breath.

Not that I’m complaining. 

Aurora had they could move the bedroom downstairs for the last ten years to save his knee, but a little adversity never hurt anyone.

West turned his wince into a smile as he trudged up one step at a time. When he got to his room, he contemplated sitting down, but like he taught the boys today, you have to pick your battles, and sitting followed by standing was too many battles back to back.

West flicked the blanket wide and draped it over his side of the bed. The smell of his grandkids still lingered on it. “Luckily, those boys aren’t at the age where they stink too bad yet.” He said as he patted the old blanket.

If there’s anything that’s had as much luck as me in this universe, it just might be that blanket.

It was a little strange to him how much life his mom had lived with him, and yet this blanket had experienced so much more. This blanket knew his kids and grandkids in ways his mother never could.

“What a good life we’ve had,” West said, dragging his hand across the blanket as he left.

He walked downstairs, going down was actually more diffculty than going up, but he ignored the pain.

These were stairs he’d walked down, stairs he’d fallen down, stairs the kids jumped from the top of, and he had exploded because ‘How could you kids do something so dumb?’ And then a few minutes later, they’d pull out the sled and, with one on the others lap and the dog frantically chasing them, they’d slide down these stairs and slam into the wall, giggle, and do it all over again until one of them inevitably got hurt. But getting hurt didn’t stop them long back then. 

“What a good life we’ve had,” he said as he stepped off the last stair.

The kitchen was next. West began by cleaning the mismatched dishes, some of which were the last one or two remnants of a set he and Aurora bought when they first got married. Others were more random, mismatched pieces accumulated over a lifetime. He smiled at the thought of the insane number of dishes they must have broken over the years.

His mind continued to wander as he scrubbed, and his chest swelled with pride as he thought of how little Ryu and Miko had responded earlier that day when Ryu dropped his full plate of food. It shattered, sending tiny slivers of whatever that plate was made of all across the ground. It could have been extra devastating because it was the first batch of Grandpa’s apple cinnamon dumplings that they had helped make. The three of them froze; Ryu’s face was that shocked face children make just before crying. BUT before he could cry, Miko said, ‘Shit happens,’ which is pretty funny coming from a five-year-old. Ryu took the reminder and said, ‘Shit happens,’ right back. Then, they both got to work cleaning it up. It was hilarious and sweet and such a reward! How many freakouts and panics do kids have, and these boys are already adapting to shit just happening! 

West glanced at the clock. Aurora’d be there soon enough. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.

He looked at the corner of the counter where he kept his old style of E.Y.E.S. The big ol’ glasses were probably fifteen generations old, but they did the job fine enough. He was tempted to put them on for a few minutes and head to bed, but there were still some chores that needed to be done. 

So West swept and mopped and straightened his shoes by the door. He wiped all the counters and cleaned the bathroom, which was strangely wet all over the floor. He was nervous about what the substance was, but considering there was pee all over the toilet seat, he had a strong suspicion. He shook his head and smiled at how much pee there was on the toilet and floor and wondered if the boys knew it was possible to aim. 

But it was a toilet and a bathroom, and what else were toilets and bathrooms meant for if not to be the place to get a little pee all over? Seemed to West they’d done a fine job at doing just that for as long as he’d known ’em.

“What a good life we’ve had,” he said as he closed the toilet lid.

After the bathroom, he needed a minute, so he gave in and sat in his rocking chair. This may have been a mistake. Stopping forced him to acknowledge how sore his feet were and how bad his knee hurt, but that would have been the case whether he was standing or sitting. He stretched his leg which clicked, then twisted from side to side, popping his lower back.

Boy, I could just sleep right now.

For a moment, he considered ignoring that mess of flour but couldn’t do it.

It was Saturday. If there’s any day he’s staying up for her, it’s Saturday.

Yes, it would be extra work to pull the stove out a little and clean back there, but it wasn’t going to clean itself. Besides, the most effective way for West to tell Aurora that he loved her was by cleaning the house. It’s Saturday, and nothing will get her…in the mood… like a clean house. Besides, it didn’t matter what day of the week it was, he liked to have the house clean when she got here. 

West sighed, slapped his thigh, and stood up, ignoring the pain in his leg.

It actually wasn’t too bad when he just decided to do it. After he pushed the stove back into place, he started the kettle. He used to concern himself with every detail of the tea-making process, but now, maybe he’d just gotten so good at it or just knew what he liked well enough; he just set the water to boil. 

West past the stairs and showered downstairs quickly; he liked to be clean when Aurora came home, especially after such an exhausting day. The eucalyptus and the steam cleared his nose, and he breathed his first deep breath all day. For as much as the transition to electric vehicles has helped with the smog, it did little to help the air quality. There’s just so much dust in this dry city. 

The shower was nice, but he was ready to see Aurora. It’s strange how you can want space and time alone from someone, and when you finally get some alone time, you just want them to be back.

West walked downstairs, grabbed the vacuum-sealed jar of white tea, took the boiling water, poured it into the empty teapot, then refilled the kettle with water. After warming the pot, he poured the water over the lucky fox statue, put some white leaves in it, rinsed the leaves in cold water, and then filled the pot with boiling water and set a three-minute timer. He filled the kettle again while the tea steeped. 

After it was done, he poured some onto the lucky fox, and the rest went into a mug for Aurora— she always gets the first steep. Then he poured the water over the same leaves, let it steep for a little longer, poured the first bit over the lucky fox, and then the rest into his own mug.

West set the tea on the small circular table between two rocking chairs, then he grabbed his E.Y.E.S and put them on as he sat down. He gently rocked back and forth, smiling at the memory of how all the dogs they’d had over the years had loved to jump in his lap while he rocked, even though they were way too big for that. But they loved it, and so did he. 

It had been a few years since their last dog died, and that was it — it was about all his heart could take. So, he decided he was done with dogs. Besides, West was getting older, and he didn’t think it would be fair to the dog to lose its best friend—West knew that heartbreak well enough and couldn’t imagine putting one of his dogs through it. So he figured a few years without a furry companion was for the best.

He looked at the paintings he’d done over the years of all the dogs who’d been his best friend at one time or another. Each of the paintings had a little tuft of their hair in a bag that he would sometimes get lost in.

Scanning across the paintings, he sighed like he’d sighed so many times today. “What a good life we’ve had.” He said as he looked at each dog in turn. But he couldn’t sit with them for too long. After all, it’s Saturday.

West’s E.Y.E.S were old and didn’t show half of what the new stuff showed, and he liked that. He had it set to where it didn’t show any kind of H.U.D. Those heads-up-displays were too chaotic for him and just made all the augmentation stick out a bit more. 

It wasn’t but a minute later, just as his sweet, subtle tea had cooled off enough to sip it, that he heard the keys scratch and the lock click; the front door opened and closed behind him as he gently rocked in his chair. He couldn’t help but note that he didn’t hear Aurora take her shoes off, but she never did. She never had as long as they’d been married, so why start a fight about it now?

She sat on the chair beside him, just as she had every night for the last almost fifty years. West could hear the chair sigh with relief — or maybe it was just him again. He took another sip of tea and went back to his rocking. Now, seeing her with her grey and black streaked hair and her beautifully lined face, he was even more at home than he had been all day. She looked so good, so healthy. So much better than she had when she was sick— 

Just that thought hit him harder than he expected, and he had to take a few gulps of tea to keep his breath under control.

What a good life we’ve had. He thought as he looked at her.

Leading up to this moment, he had so many things that he had wanted to talk to her about— how Han didn’t make the kids wear their seatbelts, how he hadn’t even acknowledged West the whole time he was picking up the boys. He was going to tell her how much he missed feeling close to Han and how much he missed—

Another two sips to force the lump in his throat down.

He’d planned to tell her about his wonderful time with the grandkids and obviously ask her about her day.

But now that she was here he didn’t much feel like talking.

They were together, and that’s all he could want. 

They sat in silence. Just together. When they were young, Aurora had thought that when old people sat together in silence, it meant they had run out of things to talk about — that it was some sign that they didn’t love each other anymore or care much for each other. And that may be true for some people, but it wasn’t for them.

There were always things to talk about; they had a lifetime of jokes and dreams and life shared, so of course, they could talk, but they didn’t have to. Just existing – just being together was experience enough.

So much had changed. She wasn’t the same woman he married, and he wasn’t the same man. He was just happy they had changed together.

He wanted to reach out and touch her as his mind wandered to the first year of their marriage — before the kids were born when it was just them and every day was filled with passion, but Saturdays— Saturdays were set aside for it. West smiled and sipped his tea, which had now become lukewarm at most. It’s funny— he always used to blame the kids or the dog or someone else for the tea getting too cold before he could finish it— it turns out that he was just a slow drinker.

But every Saturday that first year, he and Aurora had explored each other so much that they had thought they had conquered sex, that they were the best at it— but it would be years before they realized that they had barely scratched the surface of learning about themselves, let alone each other. But god, even in the awkward, and the silly, and the slightly uncomfortable at times, it was still so fun. 

And so every Saturday for as long as they could, they made it a point to be with each other. Life happens, and the first few years after the kids were born, it was tough to always do, but after the kids were finally at that age where they didn’t suck every ounce of energy out of their body by the end of the day, they were consistent with their Saturdays. Then, eventually, Saturdays couldn’t be touched; Saturdays were sacred. And it seemed that every few months, he and Aurora would discover some new position or approach to sex that would change everything. That continued for years, past their ‘prime,’ and really only stopped when Aurora had to get on that medicine for a while.

Well, she’s not on that medicine now, is she…

West looked at Aurora; his lips shifted into a sly smile. 

Aurora’s eyebrows furrowed, and she softly smiled back. 

“What?”

“It’s Saturday…”

She cocked her head.

“Wanna fuck?” He did his best to maintain his coy smile.

If she had been drinking that tea, she would have spit it out with that laugh. 

“See you in the room,” his wife said, still laughing.

West stood and nearly raced up the stairs to their bedroom, undressing as he went. Despite staying active in his old age, he could only move so quick with this bum knee. It doesn’t matter what those ads say; it doesn’t matter what you do or how active you are; you still slow down. Some things work a little worse, and others stop working altogether.

But that doesn’t mean everything stops working.

But it was funny how when they were young and these moments would come, he would fumble over his buckle and trip with his pants around his ankles. He used to think that the excitement would eventually go away, but here he was, anxiously unbuttoning his shirt and struggling to step out of his pants.

Aurora came out of the bathroom attached to their bedroom. She wore a thin, silky night dress that hung long and loose around her. She looked beautiful but so… covered.

A sudden pang hit West in the chest. He remembered when, twenty or thirty years ago, she said she wouldn’t wear bikinis or lingerie anymore because she was embarrassed by how she looked.

How many times have I told you I still think you’re beautiful? He wished she could see herself how he saw her.

“You’re in your head,” she said as she placed a hand on his chest. “What’s going on?”

“I’m fine. Just missed ya today.”

“Missing this?” 

Aurora kissed his earlobe as she gently scratched his bare back, goosebumps scattered across his body more intense than any chill he’d gotten that winter. Her hands gently pushed against his chest, forcing him to sit and then lay on the bed. She lay next to him, slid her hand down his stomach, reached under his underwear, and started massaging all around his groin as she continued to nibble on his ear.

West spread his legs, and Aurora reached a little further with her soft strokes. It didn’t work as well as it used to, but what did these days? It didn’t take too much time for him to start getting a little hard, but it sure took longer than it used to.

Stress, exhaustion, weight, and loneliness all left his body with one heaving sigh.

It took some time, but eventually, everything started working the way it was supposed to- or at least near enough.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered; his heart was in his throat, his blood pumping. Honestly, he felt the excitement more in his stomach than any pleasure in his groin.

Aurora went lower, pulled his underwear off, put lube on her hands, and began to stroke him as she gently tugged on his balls. It really had been so long since he’d felt so good. It was like an itch he didn’t realize he had until it began to get scratched, and now that it started to get scratched, it overtook every other thought.

Finally, he was hard. Immediately, Aurora picked up the pace and started moaning. The pressure was already building, and he wouldn’t last long. Some things don’t work as well as they used to, but he was just glad they still work.

Aurora moaned in his ear.

“Yes.”

West turned to look at her. She bit her lips, then blew him a kiss.

“I love you.” 

Full length strokes.

“Oh God, oh God!”

The way her eyes looked as she looked at him.

“Yes, yes— I’m gonna, I’m gonna–“

“DO YOU WANT TO LIVE FOREVER?” The ad blasted in his ear and covered his whole field of vision.

“No, no, no!” he looked around for the exit on the ad, but anytime you actively try to ignore an ad, it punishes you by extending it.

“BECAUSE YOU CAN! BIOVIVE’S STATE OF THE ART FACILITIES—”

“Shit, shit, shit!” he scrambled, frantically clicking the only button on the side of the E.Y.E.S. But it just took him to another page, still taking over his entire field of vision.”

“ARE YOU OR SOMEONE YOU LOVE—”

West ripped the E.Y.E.S. off his face and tossed them on the table. 

Finally, the ad was gone.

And so was Aurora. 

He ripped the toys off that he’d been using to play with himself and threw them on the ground. He grabbed a warm, damp towel to clean himself off and crawled into bed. The moment had passed. 

Every day, he was tempted to pay for the Premium membership, which would allow him to see her for an hour a day instead of thirty minutes, but what’s the point? She’s never truly there anyway.

He laid in the fetal position under the blanket his mother made for him, then pulled Aurora’s pillow close, squeezed it with his whole body, and inhaled as deep as his body would allow. But her smell had faded a long time ago.

His exhale made his whole body shudder.

The pillow had still smelled like her for the first few months. Once the smell started fading, he tried washing it with her shampoo, but it just wasn’t the same. So now he just hugged it close as his eyes began to sting and his throat constricted. 

Of course, he didn’t want to live forever.

Not without her.

“What a good life we’ve had.”