Sunny Days
Gordon unfolded the map as he leaned over the kitchen table and tried to comprehend the great space before him. At a distance, the dots and dashes were insignificant, but as Gordon moved his face closer to the table, the markings increased in detail, growing larger and larger until dissipating into an obscurity of undecipherable data.
The information became overwhelming. Gordon stood up from his hunch and a cohesive, familiar image formed: the world lay before his hands.
As Gordon stared at the veins of America, he realized there were so many places he wished to live, so many roads in life he could take, and so many unique experiences waiting for him with each new step. Multiple cities, yes, Gordon thought, but only one path to determine the rest of my life.
Gordon matted down the creases of the map to obtain a better view of his future. It had been years since he had considered using the relic, but this morning as he sipped his coffee, the map beckoned him—its bright blue edges caught his eye after a lifelong slumber on the dusty bookshelf. Curiosity got the best of Gordon as he broke the routine of his mundane morning ritual, prematurely putting down the newspaper to pursue his new fixation.
Gordon placed his index finger on the map and slowly charted a route out of Cambridge. Adrenaline was released into his bloodstream, and he became hooked. Gordon brought his finger back to its starting position and took hit after hit as his finger ventured to the North, the South, and the West. The options were endless, and the smooth texture of the parcel served as an uninhibited guide to his calloused finger—traveling hundreds of miles but never tiring.
Gordon retracted his finger with hesitance, not all choices will lead to a prosperous future, Gordon thought, some will lead to a premature death. But it was worth the risk; Gordon wanted life. And love.
It was inevitable that he would find love; he had found it countless times before. Sometimes through only a laugh, a smile, a touch, Gordon could find love—he just didn’t know where to start looking.
When the map piqued his interest during the first sip of coffee, Gordon had an epiphany—to reach a state of enlightenment, he needed to eliminate all aspects of his life that were holding him back. The opportunity for a fresh start never sounded better. He couldn’t help but smile.
Gordon continued to drink and began to ponder the enormity of his task as the blood buzz kicked in.
Maybe I will marry a beautiful woman regardless of where I go. Maybe I will finally meet the one who will not only love me but challenge me to fill this void in my soul. Then, just maybe, I will be happy. Gordon took another draw.
But what if I fall back into the same pattern of self-loathing? How would it be any different from my current life? Should I just give up now? Gordon looked back at the bookshelf.
Maybe this was a mistake, Gordon thought. He considered returning the map to its original form but hesitated.
Nonsense. My entire life has led up to this point—my defining moment. One day, I’ll thank myself for taking the leap. Gordon placed his mug back down on the table and continued planning.
All my potential love interests are separated by one choice—the decision I make today. But these women will never be aware of each other’s existence. And they will never know that they all share an amazing trait: the ability to fall in love with me. But I will never meet them all. The ones left undisturbed will remain oblivious to the future pain and joy I could bring. That would be a shame—to never meet a woman I could love with all my heart. Who am I to rob her of this unconditional love she may never find with anyone else? The coffee was now lukewarm, and Gordon finished off the cup.
Maybe, statistically, there is only one perfect match for me, and I never find her. That is, if she is even alive today. Maybe she was born hundreds of years ago. Or perhaps, she will exist long after my death and I will spend the rest of my days searching for what is yet to be created.
Gordon took a deep breath. My decision is made, I must try. Tomorrow, Gordon thought, tomorrow, I will leave this place forever and finally begin my life.
Gordon folded the map, placed it back on the bookshelf and walked out of the kitchen into the living room. He hugged his kids, kissed his wife, grabbed the keys to his new Mercedes, and left for work.
It was girlfriend weather as Charlie called it. When the endless billowing clouds only added an aesthetic touch to the sky—never blocking the sun’s rays from reaching the world below. When it wasn’t too hot or windy, but crisp and fresh.
Charlie knew that only a girlfriend could elevate the day into perfection. A girlfriend would give him the chance look at a beautiful woman and say, I love you. To hear those words back would be a miracle. But Charlie had already waited nineteen years—he could wait more.
Charlie stared into the endless blue sky.
Heavy rain had persisted for the past two weeks, but this morning it finally stopped. The early shower had left the ground damp and in a few hours all evidence of the rain would be gone.
Time was such a mysterious occurrence.
Charlie thought about his specific location on Massachusetts Avenue and how much history must have taken place there. How many conversations had occurred between acquaintances, friends, and lovers over the years, and how many more would happen long after he was gone?
As Charlie was riding his bike through Harvard Square, he became cognizant of his choices throughout the day. A difference in minutes would have altered his experience at every location he passed, as no two moments would ever be alike. There would never be the same combination of cars driving by Charlie on that part of the street at that time of the day again.
A difference in seconds would have prevented Charlie from becoming distracted by the pretty blonde who stole his gaze. But then he never would have shared a beautiful moment with the stranger as they momentarily created each other’s world. For that split second, the blonde was his past, present, and future. She could be anyone Charlie wanted her to be—she could even be the one to finally understand and love him.
That was why Charlie enjoyed his casual rides through Cambridge on sunny days—he had the power to mold the world as he saw fit.
Charlie continued to look up at the sky. He noticed that the clouds appeared to be static. But when perspective was added, as he shifted his view down to street level, he realized they were moving at quite a rapid pace—their beauty swirled and evolved as time pressed on.
As Charlie maintained his gaze on the street, he could make out the remains of his mangled bike. The pain in his body had long since passed—maybe it was from the lack of blood, escaping through his crushed legs and chest, or perhaps time itself was repaying its debt to Charlie, allowing his final moments to be spent in bliss.
Charlie always looked forward to sunny days, but he felt sorry for the driver of the Mercedes because he knew that special feeling was now ruined for the man.