Today's Apocalypse Sign: Unfulfilled - A Short Story

We are all unfulfilled in many aspects of our lives. Many who participate in the A-Z are writers of some degree. Published, trying to be published, novels, short stories, poetry, sci-fi, young adult...a wide representation of writers. I count myself lucky to have those who follow and comment here regularly. I am one of the black sheep of the A-Z. A non-writer (other than this drivel). And I am okay with that. Mainly because if life dealt a career do-over I would choose either writing or photography. In this respect I enjoy reading all the blogs of you writers out there. They are stimulating and educational. I enjoy the photography blogs I follow as that is a skill I want to be better at as well.

So for today, I give you a short little story I just whipped up on the fly. Other than spelling corrections it is pretty much in its raw state. It's not much but I figured I should have one wholly original post (that I didn't lean on Wikipedia for) in this A-Z Challenge and I saved that for U...

UNFULFILLED

Jack entered the subway car just as he had done for the last several days. And, as all those other days, she was there. Rachel, her name was Rachel. He found that out by overhearing her introduce herself during one of her ever-cheerful conversations. Rachel it seemed could make friends in an instant. This was the source of Jack's frustration. There never seemed to be an opening for him.

Jack took the subway not to any place in particular but to find his missing "piece". That one thing that if he found it - he would be complete. His search had been going on longer than he could remember...or forget. Whenever he thought he had it...it would vanish like smoke from a candle. He felt Rachel was that piece. He was sure she was.

Everyday he arrived at the subway and would spot Rachel chatting away with someone. It always seemed to be someone different. If he arrived early hoping to catch her alone, she would always show up talking and laughing with another subway rider. When she arrived back at the end of the day it would be the same thing...she was always surrounded by and talking to other people. Jack doubted she had ever noticed him but somehow he could not move on. He had to know if she would the one to fulfill him.

That first day he saw Rachel, time seemed to stop. Her flowing blond hair, the glow of her skin, the maddening way her eyes  spoke as much as her mouth. And that laugh. It was carefree and genuine. It made people want to talk to her. Her light touch of an arm or a shoulder added an exclamation point to her sentences. Jack had noticed all her nuances while observing her daily travels. Rachel clearly enjoyed the chore of subway travel. It meant human interaction...but never with Jack.

Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he needed to be more forward. Maybe he needed to let her go and search elsewhere. It had never been this tough before...why did she have to be so, so friendly.

You really couldn't call it an urge. If it had been an urge certainly he could not have been frustrated day after day without letting it out some how some where. The last few attempts had never taken this long and his frustration was the failure of the outcome. What seemed right ended up...not so right.

Their lives always ended up slipping through his hands like ashes from a fire. Their deaths always so final. And then he would begin again to try and find that missing "piece" of his life. Eight times previous he was sure. Not so many that he had lost count but enough that he began to doubt his chance of  success. Then there was Rachel.

Maybe tomorrow would be the day...


V you tomorrow....