Showing posts with label swim. Show all posts
Showing posts with label swim. Show all posts

Thursday, April 2, 2020

Microstory 1334: Unwanted

Therapist: My receptionist reported that you sounded a little upset on the phone when she was confirming your appointment. Is everything okay?
Journalism Student: Oh, it’s not a big deal. I don’t even know why I was crying about it.
Therapist: You were crying?
Journalism Student: Just a little. Again, it’s not a big deal; barely worth mentioning.
Therapist: Barely worth it, but not not worth it at all?
Journalism Student: Forget it, it’s stupid.
Therapist: The other day, a client of mine came in bawling because he had just seen an ad on his phone in the waiting room for hummus. Apparently, he and his late wife met at a mutual friend’s party when another friend turned out to be allergic to peanuts, and they both volunteered to rush to the store to pick up alternatives. His feelings were not stupid, and neither are yours.
Journalism Student: It’s just this thing that happened to me two days ago. I was interviewing this guy who dropped out of my high school. He’s starting a drone courier service for the city. They don’t sell supplies or anything; they just carry items from other companies to people who work from home. I thought it was an interesting concept, and I thought it was cool that someone I once took Spanish with was making a name for himself, even though he didn’t graduate. Well, he remembered me from that one class, and evidently thought I had some sort of crush on him, so he started making the interview personal.
Therapist: He made you uncomfortable?
Journalism Student: Yes. He didn’t touch me, or anything. I mean, he didn’t even really say anything inappropriate. I probably would have shrugged the whole thing off, except it’s not the first time this kind of thing has happened.
Therapist: Yes, I remember the swim team captain who wanted you to interview him in the boy’s locker room.
Journalism Student: Yeah, he acted like it was because that’s how they do it in the major leagues, but I don’t think that was his reason. I don’t think he was planning on us, like, doing something together, but I bet he figured I might start getting ideas if I saw him like that, in that environment.
Therapist: Yes, that could be what he was thinking. Remember, though, we talked about presuming other people’s feelings, positions, and intentions. He might have genuinely wanted to pretend he was a pro athlete.
Journalism Student: Yeah, I understand.
Therapist: Did you talk with this drone guy about it?
Journalism Student: Oh no, I just rejected him politely, and ended the interview. It was awkward, though, and I may have asked him a few follow-up questions if he hadn’t taken the conversation to that place.
Therapist: Well, was it awkward for him too, or just you?
Journalism Student: How am I meant to know?
Therapist: Did it seem like he was upset too? Or did he act like it wasn’t a big deal?
Journalism Student: I guess he seemed okay. Like, he didn’t get angry with me. But I still felt weird, so I had to get out of there.
Therapist: That’s a perfectly reasonable response. I’m saying, if you still need more information to write your article for the paper, you could call him with those follow-up questions, and act like nothing happened. You can’t let what he did get in the way of you completing your assignment. Even if he didn’t do that on purpose, you deserve to do your job. You never know, he could be talking with his own therapist right now about how that interaction made him feel. If you treat him with respect, he’ll either be relieved that it didn’t seem to ruin your life, or he’ll be pissed you’re bothering him again, but still without giving him a chance at whatever relationship he feels entitled to. To put it another way, either you make things better for him—and I think for you too, since you can get some closure—or you force him to show his true colors. Either way, it’ll be good to get this resolved.
Journalism Student: What if he turns out to be a stalker, or something? What if engaging him again is just leading him on?
Therapist: [...] As a woman, everything you do will be scrutinized and interpreted. The fact is that you could smile at the grocery store cashier a little too widely, and make him think you want to have his baby. This is a dangerous world, and there are lots of dangerous people in it who are looking for an excuse to justify their thoughts. We can’t let them have that much power. I’m not saying don’t be cautious, but you have the right to write your article, just as much as you have the right to smile without also agreeing to marriage. You see what I’m saying?
Journalism Student: Yeah, I guess.
Therapist: We can keep talking about this as long as you want, but I do what to make sure we have time to discuss your former teacher’s death. This virus hit us all really hard, and I don’t want you ignoring the loss, even if you didn’t know her very well.
Journalism Student: Okay.

Friday, April 12, 2019

Microstory 1080: Elsie

When I was growing up, my family was so close to the family next door that they actually built an adjoining addition between our two houses, to make it one. The four parents constructed it by their own hands, using designs my architect father drew up. A sky bridge will allow you to walk from one house to the other from the second story, while the first floor retains some open space in the center to walk through, and access our joint backyard. The boy next door was my best friend for years, until he died in a boating accident that Viola should have been able to prevent. I know, I know, beggars can’t be choosers, but I never understood why she was able to save me, and not him. It was the summer after middle school, and Ingram—that was his first name—and I wanted to do something fun, just by ourselves, before classes started. We were dreading going into high school, because though we always had each other, we didn’t really get along with anyone else, and this giant place seemed so threatening back then. This was not anywhere near the first time we went out in that row boat without adult supervision, so we were pretty confident in our abilities. We even checked the weather for the rest of the day, because we were so careful and thoughtful. The storm literally came out of nowhere, right on top of us, like an evil force was trying to attack. Ingram and I did everything we could to reach the shore, which wasn’t that far away, but those waves made it impossible to control the boat, and the rain and clouds made it impossible to see. Naturally, we tipped over, but that shouldn’t have been the end, because we were both wearing life vests, we knew how to swim, and storms don’t last forever. We held hands as best we could, but we were eventually separated from each other. As I was trying to get back to him, I felt two arms lift me in the air, and then I watched as the entire lake swam over to the side, so that I could land safely on solid ground. By the time I looked back, Viola was gone. I actually don’t have any proof that she was the one who raised me out of there, but I can’t think of anyone else who would be capable of it. Following this ordeal, Viola started following me around, like some kind of emotional support animal. Obviously this was the most traumatic experience of my life. People got it in their heads that Viola and I were friends, but it wasn’t that easy. I was grateful for what she did, but I also couldn’t help but resent her for what she didn’t do...couldn’t do. She never did admit to being on the lake that day, but I’ll always know that she chose to let Ingram die, while I have to live without him. So was Viola a great person? Well, yes, she was. But she also wasn’t perfect.

Sunday, May 14, 2017

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 12, 2127

Little Brooke started crying. She had been left alone for the last several hours. Fortunately, some of that was while she was asleep, but once awake, she realized that she was alone. She naturally walked over to the merge border where she had spent so much of her time. There she had found all of the other residents of Tribulation Island, but not her mother. Angelita Prieto had disappeared from the timestream, completely removed from most people’s minds, leaving her child to fend for herself. But Leona was back now, and could protect her. That wasn’t much, though, because in just a few short hours, she would be gone again. What would happen to Brooke then? Arcadia was no hero, but she had never been quite that bad. Surely she wouldn’t leave a toddler to die on an island. Would she?
Leona picked Brooke up and carried her over to the shelter on that side of the merge barrier to mash up some fruit for her. She too remembered Lita from before she was taken, but not entirely. Her memories of the people who Arcadia had stolen from them were neither complete, nor stable. Paige was the same way, but Brooke was different. The bond between mother and daughter was not something so easily broken. Not even time could tear them apart, and Brooke was missing her mommy very much. There was no way to explain to her what had happened. “Who do you think this child is?” Mateo asked while leaning against the merge barrier with the others.”
“We found her here,” Mario explained.
Mateo shook his head, “no, that’s not what happened.”
“Yeah, it is,” Horace disagreed. “We saw her wandering the beach, and went over to figure out what was going on, but this impenetrable dome got in our way.”
“Nope,” Mateo said. “That’s your daughter, Mario. My half-sister. Your half-sister, Darko.”
“What you talking about?”
“The person we’re missing this round; her name was Angelita Prieto. You two were in love.” He pointed towards the shelter. “And you made that little angel three years ago.”
“I would never forget someone I was in love with,” Mario claimed. “Nor would I forget my child.”
“You forgot me,” Mateo said, but regretted it.
“That was low.”
“Yes, I’m sorry, but it does prove that it’s possible. Leona delivered Brooke while you were stuck over here, and I was passed out in the privacy hut from the Xearea expiations.”
“We don’t know who Brooke’s parents are,” Darko told him.
“Look at that mess up the beach...that completely destroyed privacy hut. Who did that?”
“Uh...no one,” Aura said. “It was a storm. We decided to just not build it back up.”
Mateo shook his head again. “Don’t you people trust me anymore? Mario, that is your daughter over there! I don’t want to make you mad...the privacy hut being proof of how bad things get when you get mad, but if you can’t remember, then at least believe what I’m saying to you.”
Mario narrowed his eyes. “You’re not lying.”
“Of course not.”
“That’s my daughter.”
“Brooke Victoria Prieto-Matic. You named her after Lita’s favorite actress, Brooke Williams.”
“I’m not sure I’ve heard of her.”
“You’re a time traveler.”
Now Mario shook his head. “I need to find a way through this...thing.”
“Arcadia,” Mateo spoke to the aether, “we have to talk.”
“I am here,” Aura said, but it wasn’t her. Arcadia was just using her as a vessel.
“You took a mother from her child.”
“I did.”
“Why?” he asked.
“You’ve angered me.”
“What did I do.”
“It was in an alternate reality.”
“You can’t be angry at him for something a different version of him did!” Horace yelled, somehow both fittingly and ironically.
“I do what I want.”
“Bring her back,” Mateo ordered. “She needs her mother. She’ll die when Leona leaves.”
“Leona is off her pattern...for now.”
“Until when? When do you think it’s okay for a person to live on their own? Like, eight years old, maybe?” He regretted using such a low age as an outrageous example. She was liable to take it at face value.
“She’ll be going to live with her aunt,” Arcadia said.
Mateo breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, good. That’s all you had to say.”
“I mean...her aunt won’t know she’s her aunt, but she’s always wanted a child. She’s infertile, though, so she could be convinced to take her.”
“Okay,” Mateo said. “Apport them back to Earth whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Arcadia said. “I’ve already told you, she’s pristinely ungifted.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Mateo said, remember that from earlier. “What does that mean again?”
“She can only experience linear time. Well, I mean, she can experience relativistic time, thank God, but not time travel.”
“What does that mean?”
“If she wants to go home to Earth, she’s going to have to go the long way ‘round.”
“How long is that going to take?”
“About two-point-eight-three million years.”
“Well,” Mateo said. “I’m pretty sure she’ll be dead by then.”
“Not if she’s put in suspended animation.”
“What will the world look like in millions of years?”
“Exactly the same as it does now,” Arcadia said. “The merge border connects the time you’re in now, and the same island, but nearly three million years ago.”
“Leona thought this was the same island, but in the past.”
“She was right. I asked Glaston to create the merge for this specific reason. Otherwise, she would have been stuck on Tribulation Island.”
“Or you could have apported Lita back to Earth before Brooke’s birth.”
Arcadia almost laughed. “Does that sound like something I would do?”
“Okay, fine, let’s do that suspended animation thing. We can all go with her.”
“There is only one sleeping pod on the abandoned alien ship.”
“She can’t go alone. She’s not Supergirl.”
“No, she can’t. Someone will have to go with her. Obviously, that person will be Leona. And Leona will have to experience the four thousand years of relativistic travel time. The good news is that she won’t go insane doing that. I’ll suppress her episodic memory. She’ll still be able to make course corrections, and perform ship maintenance, but she won’t remember anything past a few moments.”
“Whether it’s a million years, or a thousand, she’ll die too. None of us lives that long.”
“Some do.”
“The immortality water,” Mateo realized.
“Yes. You’ll have to get some for her. She’ll need Youth and Longevity, and of course, Catalyst.”
“All right, where can I find Catalyst?”
Arcadia manipulated Aura’s arm to point towards the ocean.
“It just the ocean water? That’s easy.”
“No,” Arcadia said. “To find your journey, you must first walk into the ocean. Do not stop. Hold your breath when it’s necessary, but still do not stop. You will reach your answers, but you will have to be brave.”
Leona finally returned carrying Brooke, who had stopped crying, but really only because she was too dried up to form any more tears. “Mateo?” Leona asked. “What’s going on?”
If he said one word, he wouldn’t be able to go. He wouldn’t be able to walk away from her. This was an expiation, and couldn’t be skipped. He pulled off his shirt, and started walking down the beach, despite Leona’s objections and demands for an explanation. He did as he was told, and let the water wash over his head, walking as fast as he could while holding his breath. Long before he was at any real risk of drowning, the floor rose back up, and led him back to open air. But he was no longer on Tribulation Island. He was just in some kind of indoor swimming pool, and was suddenly naked.
A man in a polo shirt approached him with a towel, and a smile. “Hello, welcome to Agraqua. Thank you for visiting us. We understand that you have no choice in where you stay during this time period, but we appreciate your choice just the same. To your right, you’ll find the bar, and to your left is the access tunnel to The Constant. Please note that this area is forbidden unless you have been invited. The Great Witnessing begins in just a couple hours. You are right on time.”
“What year is this.”
“We are on Earth approximately four-point-four-four-four billion years before the time of man.” He never stopped smiling.
“I...I. I’m here for—”
“Catalyst water? Of course you are! Everyone is. That’s why this place was built. As I said, in just a few hours, the Witnessing will commence, and you will be directed to the outside pool in an orderly fashion. Until then, please enjoy the facility’s many great amenities.”
It looked like the guy wasn’t going to say anything more, so Mateo just left the swimming pool. The water on his body disappeared as soon as he passed through the doors. He had no use for a bar, so he took a left, and headed for the Constant. His cousin, Danica Matic opened the door before he even had the chance to knock.
“Hello,” she said with a kind smile.
“I had no idea you were this old.”
“Oh,” she laughed. “I’ve already been here for quite a while. The Earth itself formed around the Constant.”
“Really? Like The Besananta.”
“Where do you think they got the idea for that story?” She stepped to the side and waved him in.
“I wasn’t sure that I would be invited.”
“You’re always welcome in my home. Besides, I don’t get a lot of visitors in this time period. You wouldn’t expect me to, would you?”
“What is this Witnessing thing.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s one of the larger water deposit events, but there are thousands of them, and they all end up generating the Catalyst water you seek.” She opened the minibar and retrieved a bottle of water, not unlike the ones Mateo had accidentally drank on Ambrosios’ island. Catalyst is created by the mixing of asteroid or comet water with original nebular water within Earth’s crust during the early years of its development. The people who built Agraqua want you to watch one of these impacts so you can, well...be impacted. But it’s not necessary. The stuff in that bottle will work just as well. No single event ever does anything on its own.”
“Well, thanks for lookin’ out.”
“No problem. Why do you need the immortality waters?”
“Leona. She has to go on a relativistic trip, or something.”
Danica understood. “Ah, yes. So you’ll need Longevity and Youth.”
“Where will I be able to find those?”
“I got a guy in a room back there who’s going out for that stuff later anyway. Ah, speak of the devil,” she said once a man came down the hallway.
“Juan?” Mateo asked. “Juan Ponce de León?”
“Mateo, my friend!” the historical figure exclaimed. “We gotta stop meeting like this.” He came in for a big hug. “I’ve learned that that evil man’s version of the water had side effects that were not necessary as long as you drink the right types of water.”
“Indeed. Are you going after The Fountain of Youth? Like the legend says?”
“Indeed,” Juan repeated. “Are you coming with?”
“Indeed.”
“Indeed. Onwards to Florida!”
They laughed. They spent a few more hours visiting with Danica, and then they left.

Saturday, February 18, 2017

Voyage to Saga: Flipsides (Part V)

Vearden was sleeping soundly in his bed. He was dreaming of getting Saga back. All his efforts led to success, and they were happy. But then suddenly the dream started draining from him, and he woke to find himself becoming increasingly wet. At first he thought it was sweat, and then he thought it might have been something else, which was weird because he had never thought of Saga like that. After a few more seconds, though, he realized that the wetness was not coming from him. His hotel suite was gradually filling up from water, presumably coming from some other time and place. It had soaked through his mattress, and was overcoming his body. He jumped out of bed and started wading through the water in an attempt to get to the door. The water was up to his waist when he finally gave up trying to open it. He struggled over to the bathroom door. It did open, but it was filling up with water as well. It was then that he decided to give up. He lifted his feet and started floating on the rising surface. The Shepherd probably wasn’t trying to kill him, but if she was, so what?
The water was salty, burning his eyes as little drops splashed into his face. Before he reached the ceiling, he took a deep breath, and then let it out so as to sink back down towards the floor. He opened his eyes just enough to see the furniture disappear little by little. The walls broke away, and the floor turned to sand. Then the sand dropped away from him, leaving him in the middle of nowhere. The ceiling was gone as well, so he finally swam up and broke through to freedom. All around him he could see only ocean...and also some kind of platform. He instinctively swam over and pulled himself onto it. A machine buzzed over and started looking at him. There appeared to be a camera on it. Must have been some kind of surveillance drone.
Two people reached down and pulled him farther from the edge. “Are you okay?” one of them asked.
“Can you breathe?” asked the other.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Vearden answered. “Where am I?”
“Well, we don’t know,” said the man.
“They don’t tell us these things,” the woman added.
Vearden coughed a little and sat up. This was only one of a whole bunch of platforms, floating varying distances from each other, with no real land in sight. “Were you kidnapped?” he asked.
“Heavens no,” the man said. “This is a challenge.” He helped Vearden up and pointed at the drone. “Smile, you’re on camera. Millions of people are watching you crash this party. Where the hell did you come from?”
“This is a television show?”
“Well, it’s a web broadcast, but yeah,” the woman confirmed. “More specifically, it’s a reality competition.”
Vearden looked around again, for no reason in particular, just to get his bearings as best he could. Another drone zoomed in from the sky. It opened its aperture to release a holographic image of a man. “Contestants,” the hologram said. “This is an unexpected visit, and I recognize the novelty in it. The producers and I have decided that, since there is no rule against it, this newcomer may help you in this challenge, if he so chooses. He can only, however, help one of you. You have five minutes to plead your case, at which point you must get back to the challenge, regardless of the decision. If you’ve not left this platform by then, you will forfeit the challenge.”
There was a brief pause after the hologram flickered out when they didn’t know what to do, or say. Then the woman scoffed. She started stretching and warming up. “I don’t need any help. I’m a freakin’ fish. You’ll just get in my way. She dove into the water and began to swim to the next nearest platform.
“I could use your help,” the man said. “Philomena is a surfer; I’m a judge. I have no idea what I’m doing here.”
“What’s your name?”
“Daniel.”
“Daniel...I’m Vearden. Do people die in these challenges?”
“It’s not happened before.”
“So this isn’t like, you win or you’re executed type of thing? This isn’t some post-apocalyptic sport that the new authorities have imposed on the impoverished?”
“Of course not. Have you never heard of Flipsides?”
“I guess not.”
“It’s like Survivor meets Big Brother meets the NCAA Championship Tournament. So will you help?”
“That’s why I’m here. Tell me what to do.”
Daniel protected his eyes from the sun and looked out to the horizon. “Do you see that sky-slash-ocean-colored blob on that platform over there?”
“Uh...kinda.”
“That’s called a jelly frog. It’s a genetically engineered amphibian with a severe health defect. If it sits—oh, there it goes,” he interrupted himself when the blobby thing jumped up and fell into the water. He went on, “if it sits in one place for too long, it’ll die. The weight of its own little organs start to crush each other, so it has to frequently get back in water. Unfortunately, its gills don’t work if it doesn’t keep moving, and they suffer from diminishing returns, so it has to jump back onto land to breathe regular air again.”
“So it’s constantly on the move.”
“Yes, and the object of the game is to catch it.”
During Daniel’s explanation, Vearden was watching Philomena swim from platform to platform. She couldn’t just swim right to the one where the frog was, because she wouldn't be able to see it, and she couldn’t stay in one place too long, because the frog wouldn’t. It was designed to be tiring and frustrating. Maybe it wasn’t even winnable, but it looked like Philomena was getting close, so they better get going.
It was then that Vearden was able to see it. There was a distortion above the platform that the jelly frog was on at the moment. He started looking at other platforms to see if it was just an illusion, and found another distortion above a second platform in a different direction. But it was just these two. “Can you see that?” he asked.
“We better go, or I forfeit.”
“The blur just above the frog. Can you see it?”
“No, I can’t see anything. Maybe you just got too much water in your lungs.”
“No, this is for me. This is why I’m here. Come on.” Vearden jumped into the water.”
“That’s the wrong way,” Daniel called down to him.
“Just trust me.” He began to swim past the next platform over.
“Can you predict its movements?” Daniel asked.
“Just trust me,” Vearden repeated. He could hear a splash behind him. Apparently Daniel was following his advice.
Evidently, the platform they had started on was the starting line, because it was far more stable. He was able to pull himself on it, and stay standing, as needed. These other platforms were a lot more trouble, though. Every time he pushed down on the edge to get himself onto it, it would just turn up and slip him off. “This is impossible!” How was Philomena even doing it? She wasn’t struggling at all. Oh, that’s right, she was a surfer. “She has an unfair advantage!” he cried once Daniel had caught up to him to try to get himself on.
“She has a literal advantage. She won an earlier challenge, which gave her the opportunity to pick the place. Not all challenges are in the ocean.”
“Well, we have an advantage too,” Vearden said. “We have each other. Go try to get on the other side. I’ll hold this side down.”
“Good idea.”
Their plan worked, and once Daniel was on, he spread eagle on it to hold balance while Vearden climbed on as well.
“Okay, now what?” Daniel said. “Do we just wait for it to come?” He looked out to spot the frog. What he saw was Philomena, who had just reached the platform the frog was presently on. “Oh no, she’s gonna win!”
“Remember what I said about trusting me?”
“I did, and I lost because of it. Even if the jelly frog gets back in the water now, she won’t have far to go. It physically can’t swim this far out.”
“I want you to jump...that way.” He pointed towards the distortion, which was a couple of feet away from the platform. The other distortion had followed the frog to its new platform, confirming Vearden’s suspicions about it. Daniel clearly still couldn’t see either of them.
“The hell are you talking about?”
“If you jump, you’ll win. But you gotta go now, or you really will lose.”
“This is stupid. What’s that going to accomplish?”
He decided to change tactics. “If you do what I say, you could win this. If you don’t believe me, then you’re too far away to win, so who cares whether you jump or not? Might as well take the risk.”
Daniel looked back to Philomena. She was pulling herself onto the frog’s platform. She was this close to getting it.
“Fine,” Daniel relented. He prepared himself, then jumped right towards the temporal distortion, disappearing into it, and suddenly appearing through the exit distortion in the distance. He was surprised for a few seconds, and needed the time to find his balance, but he knew he had to get over it. He bent down and scooped up the jelly frog just before Philomena’s hand was on it. Fanfare rang out from the hovering drones. Daniel had won. Vearden smiled as he sat down on the platform. He then let himself slip into the water, but instead, he found only his hotel bed.

Thursday, December 1, 2016

Microstory 464: Floor 22 (Part 2)

Designer: I shouldn’t have to tell you to get back.
Coworker: Hey, man, we’re just talkin’. Everything’s okay.
Designer: And don’t try that thing where you climb up here and tell me that you’ll jump if I jump. Or that you just feel like standing on a ledge. I’m not a sociopath, but I still don’t care about you. If you have a deathwish, that’s fine by me.
Coworker: No, I won’t do that. And don’t freak out. I’m just getting close so we can have a conversation. It’s dangerous for you to twist around like that, and it’s rude for you to not look me in the eyes.
Designer: Okay. Just...don’t try anything.
Coworker: I won’t. Now tell me what the problem is.
Designer: Have you been living under a rock? The company has been having major problems. People have died. And it’s all my fault. I don’t know what I did. My designs should be fine, but they won’t let me back into the system to find out what went wrong.
Coworker: Maybe you don’t need to find out what went wrong, because maybe nothing went wrong.
Designer: What is that supposed to mean?
Coworker: Maybe your designs had nothing to do with it. Maybe it’s someone else’s fault. There’s probably a legal reason they won’t release the designs, but that doesn’t mean they were the cause. Maybe Analion is keeping them from you to protect you. Have you considered that?
Designer: Of course not. Because that would be stupid.
Coworker: It’s possible, but the fact is that you don’t know anything. You don’t know that it’s your fault. You don’t know that anyone blames you. You don’t know that they’re gonna fire you. Killing yourself when you don’t have all the answers is foolish...at best.
Designer: People have blamed me for it, just not officially. I hear the whispers.
Coworker: Okay, well you show me ten rumors, and I’ll show you nine lies.
Designer: This is the tenth rumor. This is my fault. I know it. I don’t need the designs, or to be fired. I know.
Coworker: Must be nice. Being so well-informed. Perhaps when this whole suicide charade is over, you can tell me who’s gonna win the vector tournament.
Designer: Very funny. And this is not a charade. Nor is it a cry for help. I’m just...waiting for my moment.
Coworker: I say go ahead and jump. Then it’ll be my fault. But don’t worry, you wouldn’t be the first person I’ve killed.
Designer: What do you mean by that? Who did you kill?
Coworker: When I was eight years old, I was full of little else but anger. Most of this anger was directed at my parents. I felt very much that they didn’t care about me, so I decided to test that when we were at the beach one day. I swam out farther than I was allowed to, and started to pretend that I was drowning. I started waving my arms around and crying out for help. Well, help came. My father didn’t hesitate to swim out to me as fast as he could, even though he had a heart condition, and shouldn’t have been in the water so soon after surgery. He was supposed to be relaxing. He had a second heart attack, which he probably could have survived if he hadn’t drowned.
Designer: Oh my God.
Coworker: I can’t tell you to not jump, but I can tell you that I didn’t. My mother and I didn’t speak for years, but now we’re closer than we ever were. The shame never goes away, but you have to ask yourself one question. Should it?