Amanda had always believed some places were permanent.
Duase was one of them.
It wasn’t a town people passed through—it was a town people belonged to. The kind where mornings arrived slowly, where neighbors called your name before you reached their gate, where even silence felt familiar.
Amanda knew every corner of it.
The cracked pavement near the well.
The mango tree that leaned too far over the road.
The old woman who sold roasted groundnuts and somehow always knew when Amanda was having a bad day.
Duase wasn’t just home.
It was memory. It was rhythm. It was… certain.
Until the morning certainty broke.
Amanda noticed it on her way to work.
At first, she didn’t stop walking. Her body continued forward out of habit, but her mind snagged on something small—so small it almost slipped away unnoticed.
The mango tree.
She slowed.
Then stopped.
The road stretched ahead, empty.
No shade.
No low-hanging branches brushing the air.
No scattered fruit on the ground.
Amanda turned slowly, her eyes scanning the space where it should have been.
Nothing.
Not a stump.
Not broken roots.
Not even disturbed soil.
Just… bare ground.
Her chest tightened.
“That’s not possible,” she murmured.
She stepped closer, as if the tree might reappear if she stood at the right angle. Her hand even lifted slightly, reaching for something that wasn’t there.
A passing woman greeted her. “Amanda! You’ll be late.”
Amanda pointed. “The mango tree—what happened to it?”
The woman frowned. “What mango tree?”
Amanda blinked. “Right here. It’s always been here.”
The woman laughed lightly, already walking away. “You must be dreaming.”
Amanda didn’t laugh.
Because she wasn’t dreaming.
The rest of the day unraveled quietly.
Not dramatically. Not all at once.
Just enough to make her question everything.
At the school where she worked, a classroom she had taught in for years seemed smaller—like something had been removed, though she couldn’t say what. A student she could have sworn she knew looked at her with polite confusion when she called his name.
By afternoon, Amanda stopped correcting herself.
She just… watched.
Counted.
Noticed.
And by evening, she was sure of one thing:
Duase was changing.
No—
Duase was disappearing.
That night, she couldn’t sleep.
The town felt different in the dark.
Too quiet.
Not the peaceful quiet she had grown up with—the kind filled with distant laughter and soft conversations—but something heavier. Like the air itself was holding its breath.
Amanda stepped outside.
The street stretched ahead, dimly lit.
Familiar.
And yet…
She walked slowly, her eyes scanning everything, afraid to blink in case something else vanished while she wasn’t looking.
That’s when she saw it.
At the far end of the road, near the bend that led out of town—
The streetlight flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
gone.
Darkness swallowed that part of Duase completely.
Amanda froze.
Her pulse began to pound.
“No…” she whispered.
She started walking faster. Then faster.
By the time she reached the bend, her breath was uneven.
The streetlight wasn’t broken.
It wasn’t damaged.
It simply…
wasn’t there.
And beyond it—
The road didn’t continue.
Where there should have been a path leading out of Duase…
There was nothing.
No road.
No trees.
No distance.
Just a blank stretch of darkness, like the world had been erased.
Amanda staggered back.
Her mind refused to process what her eyes were seeing.
“This isn’t real,” she said out loud, her voice shaking. “This isn’t real.”
But the silence didn’t argue.
It confirmed.
Behind her, a voice spoke.
Soft.
Too close.
“You can see it, can’t you?”
Amanda turned sharply.
A man stood a few feet away, half-hidden in shadow.
She had never seen him before.
But something about his eyes—
He wasn’t surprised.
“You see what’s happening to Duase,” he continued.
Amanda swallowed. “What is this?”
The man stepped slightly into the dim light.
“Duase isn’t disappearing,” he said.
A pause.
Then, quietly—
“It’s being forgotten.”