Stacy. J- just Stacy, yeah. D'you know if I can smoke. . .? Eh. Figured I'd ask.
Y'ever been in a big city? Yeah yeah, I know, London just outside, but like. A big city. Not in size, necessarily, but in feeling? The sort of city with layers, and levels, and a hundred ways to get lost down every alley? A City.That's what Chicago was like.
I used to live in Chicago, born and raised, though you might not think it of me, if you saw me now [they chuckle, lightly]
I lived in this little apartment above a bar, with Hector. We worked at the bar together, or we did, anyway, while he was getting his degree. I'd gotten him the job there when we started dating, paid for the apartment too.
He had dreams, and I wanted to help him achieve them. I loved him. Don't know if I still do. Don't know when I stopped, if I did.
To be quite honest with ya, I'm not even sure I can love, anymore. Not like that, anyway. But back then he was my everything.
I remember when he got the job, some fancy white-collar gig uptown, he was so thrilled to be using his degree, heh, said we were finally moving up in the world. I didn't get it, but I was thrilled just to see him so happy.
That was one of the last good nights we had, I think. Might've even been the last.
See, he changed, at that new job. He was tired all the time, distracted, and. Well. He didn't- uh- see me anymore, not really. He'd come home and say 'Hey, nice to see you, nice to be back, dinner plans?', y'know, stuff like that, but, well, it was like he was looking straight through me. Like I wasn't real to him, not anymore.
He started staying later at work, too, and suddenly, our little apartment, it felt stifling. Never had before, but without him there I felt, trapped, almost. And even when he was there physically, there was something just. . .gone.
Back when we both worked at the bar, back when he was a bouncer and I was slinging drinks, we had shared nights off sometimes, and we'd get out on the town, dance at some random club, maybe bounce around a few, until we lost ourselves to the crowds and the city and the night. He never had time for that, anymore.
We started to argue, then. I wanted him to be there for me, like I'd been there for him. He wanted me to "want more", whatever the hell that meant. He took me to a couple of company events, to show me, god, I don't know, what I was "missing", maybe? He never explained, just dragged me along. Maybe he just wanted a partner there 'cause he was supposed to have one, 'cause all the bigshots did.
One of those events was a Christmas party. Or something like that, it was officially non-denominational, but there were red and gold and green, a tree or two, all the trimmings. It was a Christmas party. I was on his arm all night, as he chatted and made small talk, and all I could think, all I could think, was "everyone in this room is a false face on another false face, and I'm no better than them. Hector is no better than them".
We had a big fight that night. He left.
Took the El to the edge of town and walked along the highway until I could stick my thumb out. Traveled that way until I ran into a circus in, god, I don't know where anymore. Some tiny town just left of nowhere.
I watched them perform, from a seat I hadn't paid for. And the ringmaster watched me right back.
It came up to me, in the lot behind the tent, after the show. Said I "showed promise" and "would fit well here". I said, hell, why not? Traveled with them awhile.
They fit with me alright. I could give or take the clowns; bit old and sad, if ya ask me. The high-wire, though, that was a different story.
I loved the high-wire like I have loved very few things in this life. Every moment on that wire was a thrill and a terror, adrenaline filling me through. I felt so close to falling, to death, and I felt so much more alive from that sensation.
At the first show I performed, I gave up my name to that wire, to those dizzying heights in the Big Top; I gave all of myself. And I loved every second of it. The cheering of the masses below, all wondering with me if I would make it or if I would stumble, fearing with me what would happen if I plummeted to the ground below. It was intoxicating and beautiful.
I'd spent a decent while with the Circus, but they were going to Europe, and I had some more places on my bucket list before I could leave the US happy. So we parted ways, and I started hitchhiking again.
I bounced all over the states, trying to figure out what I was missing. I was missing something, I knew that much. See, the Circus had been great, the Circus and I clicked, almost the way Hector and I used to, but. There was a not-quite-right-ness there, one distinct from the general uncanny feel the Circus had. There was more to the puzzle, for me.
Time passed, as it always does. I made it to the coast, finally. I'd always wanted to go there; Hector and I had always planned to take a trip out there someday. Well, I was at this tiny town on the beach, the sort of place where "tourist season" makes every resident roll their eyes but you know they all depend on it.
There was a pull, in that town, and I ended up staying, without really deciding to do that. Got a job as a waitress, said my name was Stacy. They didn't look too hard, god knows why, but I was grateful. Needed the cash, y'know?
Well, I'd worked at that diner for a month or so, when I had an. . . odd interaction with a customer of mine, who was sitting alone. They seemed, sad, somehow. Wanted to talk to me, said they'd come to the coast to feel free, and all they felt was overwhelmed and untethered.
I told them I was figuring things out myself, but that I couldn't really relate, that I loved the ocean out here, the size of the sky. I think I may have added too much detail to that, cause they got this shaky gray look on their face. I moved on pretty quick after that, and they left the diner in a hurry.
That night, at the motel I stayed in, I uh, couldn't get to sleep, mind was racing. Felt all shaky and weird, and like there was something pulling me somewhere, just this tug tug tug in the back of my mind. I followed it, 'cause what else was I gonna do?
I followed that pull all the way down to the beach. Tide was half in, I think, or half out. Not sure it matters. I toed my sandals off, rolled up my jeans, and strode into the surf until the water hit my knees, and there I stood, for what felt like hours, gazing out at the ocean and gazing up at the stars.
There's a kind of sky you only really see in the dark places, where you can tilt your head back and see the stars, and you feel like you're falling into infinity. And when that combines with the ocean, well. It's a dizzying feeling, much akin to the one I had on that high-wire, back in the Circus. For me, anyway.
Everything was trivial under that sky, from my best nights to my worst days, and the afternoons that were full of nothing-time. Hector, Chicago, hell, even the Circus itself, they all faded under the lustre of the sky.
Not the high-wire though. That stayed as vivid as ever.
No idea how long I was standing there, gazing outward and upward, but it felt like forever. Til someone came up behind me, tapped me on the shoulder, asked, some stupid question, I don't know. Wasn't really listening to them.
They poked me again, though, and I was losing the feeling of that sky, and I was not pleased about that. I did something, then, with my face and my hands. No clue what, but it sure as hell freaked the interloper out, heh. Wouldn't want to be seeing whatever they saw.
They didn't run back to shore, though, like I thought they would, no, they ran out past me, into the sea and sky, and disappeared somewhere into those distant stars. Didn't even splash, somehow.
Still not sure what all this is, but it's happened a few more times since then. Several more times, if I'm honest. Sometimes I'll startle someone at the diner, and they get that look on their face like that interloper got, and I know I'll be seeing them that night. I'll go out, and wait in the surf, and bask in the wideness of the atmosphere, til I see them on shore. Still don't know what they see that makes them do it, but when I call out they all come towards me. I look 'em in the eyes and they get all weird in the face, like I can't describe. Like they're seeing something that isn't there, like they're seeing me but not, like they see the stars in my face, but it doesn't bring them awe. Then I point to the endless horizon, and off they all do go.
Never had a single one come back.
So uh, yeah, I think that's all there is to tell! Currently taking a bit of a world tour, cause that town was getting stifling. Needed to stretch my legs, if you catch my drift. Not sure what all you want with these experiences, but I figured it might be nice to relate them to someone I could be honest with.
Not sure yet if it was. There's been something, something itching at me since I got here. Get the feeling I'm not totally welcome. I appreciate the time, though, and hey! If you ever drop by the US, you can come and say hi, if ya like. Open invitation. Just show up at the diner; you'll know the one, and ask for Stacy.
/ooc hope this suits your needs, Archivist! Stacy is a vast/stranger avatar of mine, of whom I am Quite fond (they're based on Waitress Song, by First Aid Kit!)
Statement of Stacy regarding the sea and the sky. Statement given January 11th, 2026 and recorded on January 12th 2026 by Archivist Graye.
Vocaroo is a quick and easy way to share voice messages over the interwebs.
Vocaroo is a quick and easy way to share voice messages over the interwebs.
This one was difficult to record, as I am still trying to configure taping and then digitally recording it and fitting into Tumblr’s audio file constraints. As for the content, Stacy seems interesting. I should feel opposed to the way they sent those people into the horizon, but I don’t really. It’s interesting, more than anything.
@breathethewater I know you’ll See this either way, but I’ve recorded a statement.
Thank you for your submission, kingmackinac
