Tornado

Since this is finals week for me and I’ve finished 3 classes already with just my 2 art classes to go,would like to share another story of mine for my Fiction class. Feel free to critique!

Tornado

Imagine … It’s the wee hours of the morning and you are sitting on a bench alone. It’s a public bench; it’s a Government Issue dark blue, plastic and very basic. But oddly enough, it’s not uncomfortable.

You are in the bowels of the earth in a large city. You are in a subway station and it’s that sort of tranquil period between trains. The curved graying white tiles are barely visible behind hundreds and hundreds of flyers, posters … thousands and thousands of fragmentary thoughts. Turning around, it’s like being in a mind-altering tornado. You are trying to read each flyer, but there are way to many, countless details, and you cannot possibly process all that information, so you just accept it and move along. Some of these colorful sheets are beginning to peel of the walls, dissipating as they float gently to the ground. For a moment there is silence …

Then you hear it, a rumbling coming from the tunnel. It is getting closer and closer. It’s beginning to shake the walls, and more and more flyers fall, like autumn leaves in a tempest, spiraling all around you. The train bursts into the station, blowing these thousands of impressions into oblivion. Then it stops. With a polite “ding”, the doors open. Suddenly … Thousands of new posters and flyers come flapping out of the train like pent up, escaping birds, and are now covering the walls. Then the door closes with another polite “ding” and the train goes off to meet its destiny. You are left once again with thousands and thousands of thoughts allotted to process. But really you are waiting for just one flyer.

Wouldn’t it be breathtaking, that just for once, that just the right flyer would land at just the right moment, which would make complete sense of it all?

 

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