Universe 2 (Next to Ours)

  In this universe, there were two brothers.

  They had no country, no home, no past worth remembering.

  They only had horses.

  The elder brother was Harana.

  The younger was Haybail.

  They loved horses more than anything. More than borders. More than laws.

  More than each other.

  They crossed countries illegally, living on deserts and roads, sleeping under open skies.

  They had no parents.

  An uncle once bought them their horses.

  That same night, he died.

  No one asked how.

  When they were in Mexico, Harana’s horse caught a deadly disease.

  They stopped in the desert and made a small campfire.

  The wind was quiet. The sand listened.

  Haybail sat near the fire, casually reading a manga titled “Copper Ball Run.”

  Harana watched his horse suffer.

  Neither spoke.

  Haybail told Harana to sleep.

  “I’ll make food,” he said.

  After thirty minutes, the food was ready.

  Edible cactus. Bitter, but safe.

  They ate.

  Then they slept.

  When the sun rose, Harana woke up first.

  His horse was dead.

  No sound. No struggle.

  Just a body that had decided to stop living.

  Haybail cried.

  He stood straight, serious, and bowed his head to give the horse respect.

  Like it was a ritual.

  Like it was enough.

  Harana felt nothing.

  His heart almost stopped—but his body moved forward anyway.

  So he mounted Haybail’s horse.

  Their journey continued.

  Minutes later, foam spilled from Haybail’s mouth.

  He smiled inside his head. “My poison worked.”

  He fell from the horse.

  And he died.

  Harana did not die.

  The milk he drank before sleeping acted as an antidote in this universe.

  Luck is cruel like that.

  Harana buried his brother in the sand.

  No prayers. No tears.

  He continued alone—on his brother’s horse.

  The horse that never ate Harana’s food.

  And in this universe too— no one will speak.