Chloe rested her bright orange hair on the arm of her couch while watching television. This was a usual occurrence for her, the same three shows she would tune into every dusk. She hadn’t made dinner yet and had no plans to. Overall, Chloe looked tired, and the sedentary state wasn’t helping her condition. So, she got up and opened her apartment door to the outside balcony, the cold air sending a wave of energy through her. She leaned her head over the railing and looked down at the ants returning home after their 9-to-5 and the toy cars that subtly rolled through the street. An hour went by, and she saw an ant wearing tattered rags throw a brick through a police station window. It looked like Chloe was having fun, watching the cops spill out of their anthill and chase the ant down the road. Eventually, when the ant was detained and dragged into the anthill, the streets grew quiet. No more ants were running about, and she looked bored.
Her gaze raised, she now saw the surrounding buildings. Windows were looking glasses into light yellow rooms. Occasionally, she could spot an ant mopping the floors or a tired worker hunched over their desk. She watched for so long that eventually the lights went out, leaving the building dark and hollow. Once more, the same look of boredom grew across her face.
Her gaze rose once more, and she saw the rooftops that rested on these buildings like little hats. Each hat was diverse; some had fluorescent lights that popped in and out of the dark, and others had smoke billowing out of them. Chloe focused on these buildings more; the ones with nothing on were too dull. She gazed at these for a long time until even the lights went dark and the smoke blew away. Again, Chloe looked bored.
What else was there to look at? To fixate? Chloe looked out, past the bustling streets, past the ants who were now in their homes tucked into bed, past the dark buildings and past the lights which had long since extinguished. She looked out to the hills near the bay, a few hours of walking away. Small yellow lights scattered across the hill, with small houses jutting out over the horizon. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and gazed over the erratic placement of these lights. Some were houses, others were streetlamps; they were not discernible, however. No matter how hard she squinted, she appeared as though she couldn’t make each one apart from the other.
One light set apart from the rest caught her eye. A small, barely noticeable white dot flickered in and out of existence at the pace of a leaky water faucet. Was this a faulty streetlight? Why does the colour stand out from the rest? These thoughts were likely worming their way through Chloe’s brain, and finally, she became excited.
She couldn’t stop looking at it; she looked enthralled with the bone-white colour, the fact that it didn’t gleam like the rest. The streetlights and buildings usually had a shine to them, a hazy effect to the eye, but this had nothing of the sort. It looked as if it were a slice of the earth that was removed, showing an otherworldly material that only she was born to see. The corners of the dot were sharp and angular; she marvelled at the perfection of the distant lines. She finally took her eyes off the light and turned inside, leaving the balcony window open.
A cold draft crept its way through the house. Chloe looked like she didn’t care. Her teeth were chattering when she opened her storage closet and rummaged through her memories. She slid an old box out from its hiding place and rested her fingers on the dusty top. A bird-watching book jutted out from the flimsy cardboard flaps. She carefully picked up the book and placed it aside after combing through the contents with a distant smile. Chloe stuck her hand deep into the box and pulled out a pair of binoculars. An engraving was sealed by dust, which read “So you can fly with the birds. Love Mum and Dad.”
After brushing the binoculars off and removing the caps, she returned to the balcony and raised the binoculars to her eyes, her dimples resting prominently under the tool. She moved her gaze left, then right, and then we were satisfied.
Because now she could see us.