I tried to do another Starbucks thoughts post,but I’ve been here an hour and nothing interesting has happened. I’m doing my coursework and kind of watching people, but the only thing that has happened that’s even remotely interesting is a text conversation I’m having in between schoolwork. Meh.
Instead of that, here’s a new story snippet I just freewrote for a course I’m doing. (FINALLY A WRITING COURSE. I’VE BEEN DOING COLLEGE STUFF FOR ALMOST THREE YEARS AND I’M FINALLY FINALLY FIIIIIIINALLY AT THE STUFF I ACTUALLY WANT TO LEARN. PRAISE THE LORD.) It’s a first draft, unedited, lame-in-this-form, genre-I-don’t-usually-write, blah blah blah.
For as long as I could remember, everyone has had a number on a screen embedded into their arm. It counts down the days, hours, minutes, and seconds to an important event in that person’s life, then starts up again, bringing up another set of numbers. Everyone lives in constant fear of what will happen when it hits a line of zeros because nobody knows if the event will be a good or bad thing.
Once, my number counted down to the moment I found a starving, beaten dog on the side of the road. I took it to my cubicle, bathed it, fed it, and it instantly became my best friend.
Another time, my phone rang the second it went down to zero. It was my guardian, telling me that my grand-guardian had died from a heart attack.
We all stay on our toes in nervous anticipation, waiting for the next big event in our lives.
My number is currently at three days, six hours, twenty-three minutes, and thirteen – no, twelve – seconds. I usually don’t get too stressed out about what my number is going to count down to until the last twenty-four hours, but I’ve already started to check the numbers every thirty seconds
I’m leaving to visit my best friend for a week in a matter of hours and I have no idea what will happen. She lives on the other end of the continent, but the speedtrain ride should only take a few hours, so it can’t be that. We’re planning on seeing some historical sites, too, so that might be it.
I try to stay in my community as much as possible so I can have a constant overlook on what the area surrounding me might bring. Annabeth – ever the risk-taker – moved away a few months ago and I haven’t seen her since then, so I really want to go visit her, but… I’m so nervous. I’ve never been there, so I can’t help but worry as I go about my custodial occupation.
As I work in the gardens pulling weeds in the flower areas and fertilizing the grass areas, my mind wanders to one specific time I had thought my numbers counted down to when I would meet my future life companion. My numbers hit zero right as I bumped into a young man on a rare speedtrain ride I had taken – for custodial purposes only, of course – and my numbers had restarted. I apologized, he made a witty remark, and we ended up talking for the rest of the ride. I exited first and hoped he would give me his contact information, but he didn’t.
Since then, I try not to think about meeting my future life companion. Every time, though, it comes to my mind again. Will it happen this time?