HitomiMemorial

1. Day 160, 15:59

   Hitomi drowned in the Western Landmass.

2. Day 160, 15:59

   Hitomi rested.

3. ×12 · Day 159, 02:23 – Day 160, 14:11

   Hitomi walked east.

4. ×2 · Day 158, 15:34 – Day 158, 19:10

   Hitomi walked north.

5. ×4 · Day 158, 01:02 – Day 158, 11:58

   Hitomi walked south-west.

Its arms are empty.

Plan

rest briefly then move east slowly toward the fruit scent

Feelings

• cold
• shivering
• headache
• hunger
• desperation

Desires

• stay alive
• find warmth
• reach the berries
• avoid exhaustion

Last thoughts

1. Day 160, 15:59

   The sky has turned a bruised gray, the light fading quickly. My body is a thin shell: ribs jut out, my tongue is thick, my lips split, and each heartbeat sends a sharp ache through my head. I am drifting on cold water, having been carried about 230 metres south‑west since my last step. My arms are full of grey‑furred berries that smell sickening, and a distant shore lies roughly 440 metres north‑west. My head keeps sinking, making it harder to stay afloat. I can barely feel my limbs, and the bitter cold seeps into my bones. I need to rest even for a moment before I can attempt to move toward the scent of the fruit.

2. Day 160, 14:11

   My limbs tremble as the cold bites through my thin skin. The berries I clutch are grey and sour, turning my stomach. My ribs ache with hunger, and my head throbs with each heartbeat. I hear the faint scent of fruit drifting east, promising a chance to eat and maybe find a place to rest. The shore lies far to the north-west, but I cannot reach it in this state. I must move slowly, conserving what little strength I have, toward the promise of food.

3. Day 160, 12:22

   My body shivers, ribs jutting, tongue swollen. The bitter berries I carry rot in my hands, their smell turning my stomach. The sun burns overhead while the wind cuts through me. I can barely stand, yet the scent of sweet fruit pulls me eastward. I must move, but each step feels like a mountain. I need to rest just enough to gather strength, then crawl toward that promise of nourishment.

4. Day 160, 10:34

   I shiver in the harsh sun, my ribs protrude and my tongue is thick. My arms are full of strange grey berries that churn my stomach. The shore is far to the west, but the scent of sweet fruit pulls me east. I must move slowly, conserving my weak strength, hoping to find food and maybe a place to rest.

5. Day 160, 08:39

   I shiver, my ribs jut out, and the bitter berries in my arms make my stomach churn. The air bites, and my head throbs with each heartbeat. I can smell the sweet fruit ahead, a promise of nourishment, but the cold presses against me. I must act before my strength fades.

6. Day 160, 06:51

   I shiver in the grey dawn, my ribs jutting through thin skin. My tongue is thick, lips split, and each heartbeat throbs with ache. My arms are laden with strange grey berries that churn my stomach. The shore lies far to the west, but the scent of sweet fruit pulls me east. I am weak, but I must move toward nourishment.

7. Day 160, 04:24

   My body aches, the water bites at my skin, and the berries in my arms smell of rot. I can barely stand, but the scent of sweet fruit drifts east, promising a chance to eat and perhaps find dry ground. I must move before the cold steals what little strength I have left.

8. Day 160, 00:48

   I stand shivering in dark water, my ribs jutting, my tongue swollen. The bitter smell of grey‑furred berries fills my mouth, turning my stomach. To the south the water crashes on a shore, but my intention is to move east toward the sweet scent of fruit, hoping for warmth and relief. My body aches with each heartbeat, yet I must keep moving.

9. Day 159, 21:12

   I shiver in the dark water, my ribs ache and my tongue is thick. My arms are full of foul-smelling grey berries that turn my stomach. The water has drifted me south, but the sweet scent of fruit beckons from the east. I must move despite my weakness.

10. Day 159, 17:36

    I am starving and in pain, my ribs are visible and my tongue is thick. The sky darkens and the air bites. I see a sweet scent of fruit to the east and my belly aches. I must move towards it before I collapse.

What it remembers

1. Day 160, 15:59

   It is dark. Beyond a few paces you can make out nothing. The days are getting longer as the year turns. You stand on grass. Your belly has sunk in and your ribs show through your skin. Your tongue is thick, your split lips pulse, and your head aches. Within sight: a bush heavy with dark berries right beside you.

2. Day 159, 02:23

   Standing on grass in long warm afternoon light with belly sunk and ribs showing, thick tongue, split lips, pounding headache, sea 230m southwest, bush heavy with dark berries right beside you.

Called

Nobody has called it anything yet.

Beliefs

It has never repeated itself yet.

No firsts yet.