A World Without String Is Chaos - Chapter 38
“I think I’m pregnant!”
“I love you!”
“Fizzy Pop~~~!”
Fred decided to travel. See the world. He had worked at Fizzy Pop for a long time now, and he was glad the company ran his first ad again. It meant a lot to him. He wondered if Emily saw it.
Fred didn’t know where to go. He let his mother, Emily, Mark, Sarah and Carlos know of his plans to simply take the 5:15 train and continue on from there. They knew how to contact him.
for visiting.
So, Fred did just that. He took the 5:15 and went to the other side of the state. Last stop.
He watched the people at the stations, on the train, all heading for their own destination.
He was getting old now. Retirement has reared its ugly head. It had such a negative connotation, retirement. The word rang off-putting in his ears.
He remembered the NEET life he lived before the knife. Days that never ended, nights that dragged on. He filled his days feeling bad for himself, blaming his parents for everything. Like providing literally everything for him.
The worst was when he blamed himself.
NEETdom is a place of no movement, no destination. It is a state of mind. Self pity and self sabotage. Like an Ouroboros with no more body to consume.
But retirement is good. Fred looked back at all the things he had done. All the people he intertwined himself with. The strings criss-crossed with human beings as their points. A network of error and trial. And there were only beautiful mistakes.
Fred began walking. At a steady pace. There were so many people. And he thought: how wonderful that there are so many of us.
Each different, yet exactly the same. Each so flawed, yet perfect all the same.
Reaching for the same thing.
Fred’s legs got heavy. He hailed a cab. The driver stayed silent, not even asking where Fred would like to go. It was as if the driver knew. Fred stayed silent, too. He saw the road lights approach, shine brightly, then fade. And repeat. On and on, like a sacred promise. Kept each time made.
And there was so much left to be done.
