Got up at 6am this morning to write today’s installment of MEMORIES FROM THE FUTURE. It was completely dark outside, and as I sat down yawning and bleary eyed at my laptop, I thought: this is the gloaming hour.
In the distance I could hear the disconsolate beeping of a garbage truck reversing down an alley. A few streets over, a dog was barking mindlessly, a hollow and echoing sound that seemed automated. These sounds served only to emphasize how quiet and still it was, no sound of traffic, of cars, no birds yet, just the pre-dawn dark and the white glow of my computer screen.
I made a mug of tea, opened up Word, and got to work. It’s now two hours later and I’ve written the end of Chapter 3 and a large part of Chapter 4. Ralphie killed a bear with his teeth. The President has confirmed that there is no way to prevent the kidnapping of every boy and girl between the ages of ten and fourteen by the time traveling citizens of the year 2311. Here’s a brief excerpt for your reading pleasure:
I walked behind the pair of them all the way. It was slow going, but Ralphie didn’t seem to mind, and in a way it was sweet, watching them walk like that together, hand in hand. I don’t think they’ve ever been that close to each other for so long. Amanda kept chiding Ralphie for disappearing, and he had the good grace of lowering his head and pretending to be abashed. Every once in awhile he would grunt in answer to a question, but otherwise he didn’t speak. Amanda swore that he could, but I had never heard him say a word of English.
It was only when we were getting very close back to town that we discovered that he had stuffed the pouch of his hoodie with the torn of claws of the bear, and Amanda made him throw them all away before she agreed to move any further. I stood and watched as he petulantly dug them out and tossed them into the bushes, and shook my head. Ah, Ralphie.