From the edge of the earth and back, the sky itself became his canvas. The cosmos put on their lightshow, always different, punctuated by comets and shooting stars, the sky changing from a dusky plum color to a sateen black.

From his vantage point, his home atop a fire watch tower at the peak of a mountain, he saw everything above and below. Every so often, flares of orange and red plumes filled the sky, as if the night itself had thrown off its black cloak to reveal the fiery feathers underneath. He called those in, speaking to the people who would put the fires out.

That was his life: wake, look out at the world and watch to see if part of it was erupting. So deep within the trees of the forest, when the wind blew, it were as if the trees whispered to him. In a way, he was never alone, but he was very lonely. He filled up his evenings with old movies. The tower had a small black and white television and a pile of old VHS cassettes. He did have a few books, but at night, when the darkness was total, he liked to have the sound of another voice.

He had been watching one movie in particular over and over again. It was an old movie from 1988 called Running on Empty. River Phoenix was in it, and he was gorgeous. He realized he needed to get laid if he was lusting after a guy from thirty years ago.

Just like the stars that changed in the blink an eye, so did life. It was a perfectly ordinary day, with nothing to mark it as different. Alexander was just about to climb up to the top of the tower with some supplies when he heard a voice behind him.

“Hey, Alexander?”

The world around him fell away as he turned. Coming toward him, his footsteps whispering like the leaves in the wind, was Troy. His Troy. His only. His everything. Alexander wondered if it was possible for a heart to stop beating when someone left, and start anew when that person returned.

What he wanted to say was, Where have you been? Why did you leave? How did you get back here? How did you find me? Instead he said, “What are you doing here?”