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The Test-- © Mardou Bach
In the car my ears ate up the radio. A song I'd heard dozens of times in the past was bursting louder and clearer and more exciting than it had ever been. I turned all my concentration in on it and sped forward to the Center. Upon arrival there were no available parking spaces. It could rain parking tickets. I parked illegally and watched my reflection walking in the black mirror of the building as I approached my future. Gray and black; my clothes, same as the day I'd come for the test. I had layered a few sweaters and it made me look fat, like I was someone else. This was fine with me. I walked through the doors and as my eyes adjusted to the light I considered my shifting stream of self absorbed to observing consciousness, how half the time I feel I just blur in and out of reality, so then how much can it really matter if-- Even so, each step toward the reception desk felt like the last moments of my life, at least as I knew it. I would step out of this body and mind and into something unknown. I slowed my stride, stretched out time. But once I made eye contact with the receptionist I was resigned. I had been daring myself all the way down here to see how close I could come to my results, but now here, caught in the white and brown of her eyes and the curving up of a well-practiced smile, the next step was a twist in the plot of my own story which I didn't know and could not erase or rewrite if I didn't like it. Previous | Next |
