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contemplates for what reason he was holding his breath in the first place. Now what?.....
The thirty minute walk into the city centre provided some time for reflection. Adam had always being quite fond of his own company. He could daydream for half an hour at a time about some long-winded, far-fetched adventure he was having that wouldn't be out of place in an action movie. His journeys to and from work over the past few years had sharpened his ability to do so. His imagined lives were always a nice escape from the one he was living. He begins his walk towards the city not having briefed himself on what he'll do when he gets there. He begins to imagine himself as an internationally recognised Rockstar, headlining festivals, travelling the world, surrounded by beautiful women, with his past life a distant memory. He imagines Michelle sitting at her cash register as his songs are played daily throughout the store.
However hard he tries, Adam cannot keep focused on this train of thought. His surroundings distract him, but of course they do, they are fresh. This is not the 1740 from Platform 3, he is not out of breath from running for it, and he cannot tell what he would see if he were to look up at any one moment. Maybe its because that the best thing that has happened to him today isn't that he made it in time for the early train, that he didn’t have to wait another 20 minutes for the next one only to realise he was rushing home to watch time pass and try to balance out whether he should squeeze in one more episode or go to bed. For the first time his reality was worthy of spectating. Up until now he would use these fantasies in a fruitless attempt to disassociate himself with the life he was living, like refusing to acknowledge the existence of your embarrassing conjoined twin.
The twin however, has been hacked off and he feels physically lighter for it. He takes in everything during the walk, the last of the burnt orange glow of the morning sun against the road as the street lights complete their handover and flicker off, a waiter casting the vibrant red and white checkered table cloth over a table outside of a small Italian restaurant and the fantastic silence of the place – the world seems happier today – Adam was happy.
The problem with happiness of course is that, like anything alien to the general population, unfamiliarity breeds contempt - wearing a smile is like wearing a target. As Adam is somewhat of an immigrant to happiness he is unaware of the hostilities a smile can invite. It is not long however until a passing member of the general public is kind enough to provide him with a demonstration. Unaware that he was wearing his weekend mask on a weekday Adam makes eye contact with a girl, about his age, passing in the opposite direction, headphones in, quick marching, he smiles at her. This apparently justified a response that basically insinuated he was some form of predator. The corner of her upper lip pulls up like its caught on a fishing line, her eyes roll around inside her skull like disconnected marbles and in the unlikely event that there was any doubt to her disgust she side steps as she passes him her arm outstretched and her hand out flat.
This stops him in his tracks momentarily. Her reaction was so ridiculous he involuntarily snorts with laughter and continues on. There are few things that Adam prides himself on, but not fitting the bill of a Millennial has always been one of them. He's never felt particularly entitled to anything and always knew that the poor state of his affairs was primarily his own doing and nobody else's.  Imprint

Text: Glenn Landy
Publication Date: 01-12-2017

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