Story a day: 3.5.16

Prompt: Get high. Set a timer for five minutes. See what happens. No deleting. No stopping. Can correct for grammar, spelling, etc.

We could only go one way. Physically. We could only move in one direction. It made looking back with regret impossible.

We held hands, but we didn’t want to. It just felt like the thing to do. Trapped on some conveyor belt of future forwards, we held hands with the only thing around us that made sense. Strange, that at the end it would be a human that made sense. All the time leading up to this had been full of inexplicable humans.

Had we known each other before? Were we friends or acquaintances or family, even? I didn’t know anymore. The person beside me was just an impression of a human. I wasn’t sure if they were male or female, young or old, familiar or strange.

We continued on, only one way. It felt so much less impressive than all the descriptions of shining stairways and trumpets and pearls and shit. I mean, I guess I wasn’t super surprised – I hadn’t really expected anything, much less the trumpets and all that. But an escalator and one-way signs seemed like a letdown, even to me.

I think we were supposed to look at our lives or something, but I didn’t care and I didn’t look. What could be there to interest me? There was only one way, now. One way. When you’re only moving one way, there’s no space for regret or nostalgia. I preferred it that way.

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