Wanderers

Story about real home

I remember, long ago, when we've first met, we sat on the catamarans on the beach camp and stared at the stars. Olga, who lived with us in one room, wanted to arrange a real romantic date - and Lily and me set off. We had had with a pear, and we took turns to bite off a piece of it. We decided not to play in The last pie's piece: Lily had bitten off the flesh, and  I took the stem.
Waves were rolling quiet. It was very light - the moon, still nearly full, reflected by the broad river. Somewhere in the distance could be heard singing - it must be boys playing guitar and singing on the roof of the dining. We were on the beach all alone. Lily did't want to go here. She said the water damps down sound. She's always worried about that, if there be someone who would hear us.
We were silent, then froze and began to talk: about death, about aliens and that we would say a different form of life, if it will be one phrase and we do not have time to get an answer. I said it would be: "Our planet is not really blue, it is much more green."
And then we heard. Singing could be heard of water - raucous and subdued: Lily was right about the water. There was a woman, who sang. We began to peer, until he noticed the ship. Not very big, and surprisingly quiet, it seemed to hover over the river, without disturbing any of its waves.
Invisible woman all sang, I looked back up at the stars - and suddenly the sky rocked - and then was back on his seat. And when I looked down at the river, I suddenly realized that there is nothing in this world - except for this song, and this river, which flows into Milky way crosses the sky and returns to earth - cold live Ouroboros.
The ship sailed past us - Lily stared at the empty deck. Then it was gone, finally the song became not heard, and I was able to believe in world again.
"I think they shoud know?" - suddenly said Lily.
"What?" - I did not understand.
"What the world is green."
We were silent.
Then in the east appeared gray band and the sky became overflow with colours.
Fishes had danced. Their slippery backs looked like snake scales.
"I wonder what she was singing," I said.
Lily shrugged:
"On the home, what else. About real home" - suddenly she added.
"How do you know?"
And she just shrugged again.
We sat for a while, and then returned to our house - to comfort sobbing Olga.
We never talked about that night.
But  we now look at the sky in the same way.