Friday, 16 October 2026

Forget I Must NotBy Jerome McClimont,cold, sparkling water with a slice of lime.


The glass door slid open with a crisp hum, revealing a world untouched. Sharp barks of four-legged aliens shattered the stillness. A sea of tiny green needles stretched towards a boundary of statues. Every statue was faceless, each bearing the same vacant expression. Thousands of oval-shaped leaves sprouted from their rugged surfaces. They stretched high into the cedar scented air, clustered beneath a canopy of green armour.

A decaying structure stood just metres away, stark against the faded sky. Each room bore a melancholy dimness. The stuffy air brimmed with a fine powder, illuminated in the afternoon sun. A portal to the outside world lay embedded in the wall. The world revealed itself through the sheet of glass, golden and crisp. Statues scattered around the environment, exploding with leaves. The landscape stretched into the distance, disappearing at the edge of the galaxy. Hills overlapped throughout the distant horizon, barely perceivable to the human eye. As night fell over the landscape, a blanket darkness suffocated the structure. Dimness engulfed the room where we lay.

Brightness. It burst through the open curtains, dancing through the tenebrous cabin, full of life and energy. The golden sunshine was soon greeted with the muffled moaning of many. An explosive trill of birds infected the serene air, providing a piercing ambience to the steady drone of four-wheeled metal capsules.

‘Good morning.’ The greeting from a roommate carried across the still cabin. The roommate turned his head towards the window, squinting in the sudden brightness. He stood silently in the corner of the room. His tentacles floated helplessly through the heavy air. I pictured his sullen face, shrivelled like a prune. Scientists didn’t accept dreams as a distraction; they pushed them away; they forgot about them. I ordered myself to forget. Forget I must not.

As occupants uncovered their blankets, I was dragged away from serenity. They emerged from their mattresses one by one. The group filed through the entrance, embarking through the foreign landscape. The air teemed with a sterile smell of freshly mowed grass. The smell filled my nostrils with unforgettable memories.

We returned to base that night, exhausted after the hike. Darkness consumed the landscape, leaving the camp suspended in silence. My roommate’s voice transmitted a low signal. The conversation drifted through the night.

‘Go to sleep.’

Forget I must not.

 

 About the author


Alongside novel writing, Jerome enjoys writing a wide range of short stories. Jerome also writes short stories that explore the extraordinary hidden within ordinary experiences. 

Did you enjoy the story? Would you like to shout us a coffee? Half of what you pay goes to the author the other half goes to expenses e.g. Maintaining the web site and setting up The Best of Café Lit book each year.


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