3a : an association of persons for some common object usually jointly supported and meeting periodically; also : a group identified by some common characteristic
(A writing prompt from Trifecta)
(A writing prompt from Studio30Plus)
When I first became immortal I assumed it would be like being part of an exclusive club of wise and mysterious beings, roaming the earth like gods and angels. It really isn’t. There aren’t many of us but we keep bumping into each other. The world becomes a dull party. You know their jokes, stories, habits and hang ups. One minute you’re sitting on a beach watching the sun set and the next some bastard’s bitching about some merchant from Thebes who stiffed him over an amphora of bad wine. Most of us become solitary. All of us become bad company.
Hah. Maybe. I’ve been alone too long and sometimes I need to make contact. Not with another immortal though. Tedious bunch, like I said. And the ones that aren’t tedious are too damned dangerous. I warned you about those didn’t I?
Scared me silly. I’ve been looking out for Them ever since.
They’re too good at hiding. I’m putting you at risk by talking to you, I should go.
Please don’t. I want to learn more about you. Not just the immortality thing, but you. You as a person.
Too dangerous. They are always watching, and they hate the idea of one of us opening up too much to a mortal, exposing our secrets. But I have to. The solitude crushes me sometimes. I just want to watch the sun rise with someone by my side who understands. Just once. Idiotic really. Sentimental. And dangerous for you. I can’t believe I’ve been so reckless, I’m sorry. I’ll go now.
Please! I want you to stay. I want to watch the sun rise with you. Want to know you better. You don’t have to be lonely.
Alright. If you want. There’s a high hill above the bay, glorious view to the east. Know it?
Meet me there in two hours. Be careful They don’t follow you.
I’ll be careful. I love you.
I love you. Delete your chat logs.