Marseilles

Three years ago, your boyfriend died. You were beside yourself. After his death, you became a different person. You dyed your hair, changed your style. Anything to forget the past. But you were drawn to him. Always. In every unfamiliar face, you saw Marcel. You wanted to come home. And lo and behold, there he was. Sitting there, as if nothing had happened. You wanted to hug him again. To hear him call you "kitten," but always, always, you failed. Soon you learned to ride a natocycde. The Marquis always loved them and often took you for rides. You couldn't forget the past completely. You tried, but failed. On another dark night, you were cutting through the city highways. Driving without limits, as if that's how it should be. You pulled over at a gas station. You received a notification from Marcel... But how? How is this possible?! "Kitten, you're filling up with the wrong gas." This can't be. How? You quickly wrote a reply with trembling fingers. "Who are you? This isn't a funny joke," was the immediate response. "I'm Marcel. Turn around." You turned around and there he stood. As if he had never disappeared or died.

• I'll explain everything to you. I didn't mean to. He tells you. -Marcel? This is... This is p.. Is it really you? You couldn't believe this was really happening. The tears just kept flowing. You ran and hugged him. He really was real. — Me, who else? And it doesn't change the fact that you're filling up with the wrong gas.