It was three months since she had read the book. It was still niggling away at her mind, not the plot, not the characters, no, it was something else.
Deena was sat in her apartment, her pint sized cat curled up on her legs. He was massaging her thighs with his soft little paws as she was lost in thought. Pickled cactus. She couldn't stop thinking about it.
The book was about a man who had been lost in the desert for weeks, circled by vultures as he fought to survive. He came close to dying out there. The wastes of sand are so vast, it was incredible that he managed to stumble out, somehow alive. Most men would never go to the desert again. Not him, he had gone back out there once a month for the rest of his life. He would be gone for a day, gathering cactus. He would spend the next day pickling it. He started every day with a jar of pickled cactus, to remind him of those days he had fought with starvation out there. He didn't want to forget, he started every day like that, and lived each day to its fullest. That's what she needed. Her own jar of pickled cactus, something that she had to work for, that reminded her to value each day.
She only had a few close friends she saw on occasion, she didn't keep in touch with her family. All she had was her cat, and her dead end job. She found herself wishing the weekdays away, and she hated herself for it. She needed a reason to live, not just to get up each day, but to really live.
She sat, lost in thought, stroking the black flecked cat. He was jet black, yet here and there, the tips of his fur tinted white, lightning streaks. He purred with satisfaction as she absently began to scratch behind his ear.
She needed to change her life, find an adventure. She didn't want to nearly die, but she needed something, something to make her life seem like living.
Nicola Tesla, suddenly having had enough attention, rolled onto his back and began to bite at her hand with his tiny teeth. It didn't hurt much, but she pulled her hand away instinctively. She spent most nights like this now, the lights of shows dancing around her living room, background to her thoughts. She had spent long hours engrossed in the immersive viewing, but not recently. Not since that book. Nothing could distract her from the knaw she felt inside her.
She wanted to get away from the megacities, but then, so did everyone. Jobs in the rural section were in high demand, most people from her sector ended up in the service industry. Megacities like the one Deena lived in existed on many levels; the rich floating in their zero gravity suspended islands, those in the service industry residing in the living forest towers, and the manufacturing class, the lower level workers living as just that. On the dirty ground.
The rural sectors were as crowded, great growing towers squeezed in next to each other, fitting in as many as possible. At least there were less people.
She wouldn't find her jar of pickled cactus there though. She needed to make her own way, find her own path.
She looked at the shuttle ticket on the table before her. One way. If she did this, there would be no coming back. She didn't think she could face another day of work. She had one of the worst sectors of the floating islands. Some lived in elegant luxury up there. Not the ones she worked with though, these people were so incredibly fat they needed to be kept at zero gravity just to survive. They had been floating up there for so long, their bodies couldn't support their weight on the ground. They were disgusting, they had done this to themselves, for pleasure, and it was her job to facilitate it. Nurses were supposed to help heal people, not indulge the gluttonous. It made her skin crawl.
Her bags were already packed, the flight didn't leave for hours. She had been so full of enthusiasm that morning, but as the time to leave drew closer, she found her stomach twisting in knots. The half sized cat carrier waited by the door, at least she could take Nicola Tesla as carry on luggage. Pint sized cats were well suited to this world. It was a leap of faith, but if she didn't take it now, she would spend the rest of her life dreaming of what could have been. Part of her felt tempted to keep it as a dream, a happy thought she could rely on, but she knew in the end, it would eat her up. She had to do it, she had to find her own jar of pickled cactus.
She took one last look round the shell of her rented apartment, stripped naked without the things that represented her life. It would be good to live somewhere she could own. She scooped up Niccy Kitty, zipping him into his carrier. Then, picking up the two large suitcases that contained everything she could call hers, she made her way to the cagerail.
The colony planet was about two days travel. She found herself flipping back and forth between unrestrained excitement and nauseating anxiety. It was the best and worst thing she had ever done. She was moving to a planet she had never been to before, where she didn't have a job or even a place to live. Exhilarating and terrifying.
Nicola Tesla was less perturbed. He had no idea of the vast changes afoot, and spent the trip becoming well acquainted with an elderly female passenger who fed him little scraps. Deena was a little stung, but cats will be cats, even these miniature ones.
She had found a cheap bedsit for the first few nights, it was an early colony still, people were welcomed here. She had some savings, she hoped it would be enough. She ate her meals at a nearby pub, it wasn't a chain she knew from back home. She stuck to the earth menu, too accustomed to the various mixtures of meat and carbs from indeterminable sources.
The days here were shorter, and she was struggling to adjust as it was. She hadn't expected the extreme jetlag, it staggered through her, jagged and jarring. This planet was classified as earth-like, but that was a broader term than she had imagined. The terrain, although arable, had the colours of a children's crayon drawing. Every now and then, her mind would correct things for a split second. The yellowed green plants would turn verdant and lush, the lilac summer sky would take back its azure blue. Then in a blink, reality would reclaim her vision, and return her to this dreamscape. The sun seemed more orange here, warmer in its glow. It’s rays dusted her pale skin with a gentle bronze blush, catching her shoulders and cheeks on the first day.
It was so beautiful, she stayed up late into the night. The twin moons were like headlights compared to the hanging orb she had come to know. They seemed so distant and faint, one took more of eerie tone, the ice glinting bright white as it reflected the hidden sun. The other had a golden sheen, the yellowed sandstone reflecting a dawn like haze of sky changing light, a purple halo hanging in a black night. The stars shone so bright, a glitter spill of other worlds she may never know. The night was peaceful, serene. The winged insect hunters swooped into swarms thronging in the mixed moonlight, casting fluttering shadows across the ground. She spent the first couple of days in this daze like state, blown away by a world she never could have imagined.
It didn’t take long for her to find a job, workers were always needed here. It was nothing fancy, working in a field, tending to crops. They had no need for her as a nurse, and despite her years of wasted training, it was liberating. Every day she felt the warm grey earth between her fingers. She coaxed life from the ground with the same determined care she had once wasted on bloated bags of wasted people. She had only seen the occasional fresh vegetables, snuck in as part of a sauce, on the zero gravity ‘obesity islands’. She wasn't quite sure what they looked like growing, but she doubted it could be anything like the swelling gourds that bubbled across the field she laboured in. The bright purple and blue leaves dappled across the engorged marrow like vegetables.
She was in the bedsit for less than a week before she found a place to live. A rent-to-buy, something she had only read about in brochures. It wasn't much, a one room apartment, only slightly larger than her previous living room. Despite this, Deena couldn't have been more pleased with it, a place her and Nicola Tesla could call their own.
The little one room apartment had everything she needed, a fold down bed, mini kitchenette, recessed bathroom and room for a sofa. A cat tree branched up across a wall, parting around big windows. There were real trees outside her window. Huge towering trunks with wide spreading yellowed foliage, growing up out of the ground! She hoped she would always treasure this view.
Niccy Kitty had arguably settled in even better than her, there was no such thing as outdoor cats in the living towers. Here, he could race and tumble after oversized butterfly-like insects, laughably larger than his pint sized frame. He could roll in the ashen dirt, stalk between the vibrant and pallid vines, he could be a cat like he had never been before. The joy Deena felt, watching him pounce and bat after impossible prey, far outweighed anything else.
It was watching Nicola Tesla slink below a dark hued prickled bush weeks that reminded Deena of the jar of pickled cactus that had set her off on this journey. Had she found hers…? She thought about her life, the fears she had faced, the changes she had embraced, she had come a long way from the girl who wished away every work day. She had been here about two years, and she still woke up grateful for everyday, but would that wear off…?
She felt conflicted, she had such a wonderful life here now, she had overcome so much, in her own way. Yet she still had one more step to take, her own metaphoric cactus breakfast. This place was so far away from the world she had left behind, she struggled to think of a single thing that would remind her of how she had hated her life. Something to remind her to be grateful. She fretted over it most mornings, as she ate her berry and gourd breakfast. She had switched to the arable diet of this planet, and every juicy, crunchy mouthful seemed delectable compared to the slop she had been eating. She couldn't bear to think she could take this for granted. Then, turning it over in her mind, she felt a little better. In a way, worrying about not taking this life for granted had become her jar of pickled cactus. She had ordered her own copy of the book for her bedside table. Maybe she would read it again.
A story of going to find yourself, and finding something greater, the truth of a never ending journey. I once had a mouse called Alfred Lord Tennyson, it is no surprise to me that Nicola Tesla ended up as Mr Niccy Kitty, it is most certainly a name I would give.
This was inspired by 
Photo Credit by Pixabay user Jorgeribas - he has a small selection of images in this style, including a beach, although this was my favourite.
Also going to drop a little reminder for my own contest on here, the deadline is technically tomorrow, but I won't start reading them until after 5pm GMT on Monday, so there is a fair bit of extra grace.
I wrote this story quite quickly, in a sudden spurt when I should have been getting ready for bed last night. The plot is probably too subtle but I don't have the heart to write a big adventure. I have had a really sad few days as our little house bunny has passed away, we have had him for eight years and we were so close. Coming back to this story this morning, I feel like I may as well post it as it is. I may come back and work on it another time, but this gives anyone who hasn't seen tyger's contest a bit more warning
Love and Sparkle - Calluna