It didn’t occur to me how lucky I actually was—not in regards to luck itself, but in the sense of my path swinging to such a favourable position—until I had walked out of the precinct. My mind had been buzzing like a hive on fire. Now, however, as the crisp, fading summer air assaulted my sanity for what seemed like the first time, I could think as clear as the oxygen that surrounded me. I took a deep breath, looking abashedly at my friend who still didn’t look as though she knew what was going on, and reflected.
The person who had entered that deplorable place emerged a separate entity. I was that entity. Same name, same face, radically different mindset. We approached the car. Right then, my friend turned to me with an expression that exposed her lack of situational comprehension, and asked:
“Cigarette?”
I merely nodded, grabbing the filter of a Marlboro and retrieving it in entirety from the proffered pack. Snick. Snick. Snick. The butane-fueled flame caught the tip and I dragged. A tendril of smoke lanced skyward from the cherry as if trying to escape the heat and join with the clouds. It never made it, for the wind absorbed the cigarette smoke in an instant as well as provoking a small shiver down my back. I took that as a signal to move on; to go with the wind. Everything in need of dealing with here had already been dealt with. The door of the Toyota opened and closed effortlessly.
As she pushed down on the clutch, keyed the ignition, and set off I could feel my own gears clink-clank-clunk back into action. They were oiled with a newfound appreciation of the air, the sky, the trees, the leaves, the road, the paint on the road, the other cars, the other people inside the other cars—of life. I tapped the ash from the Marlboro into an unused cup and drew in as hard as my mind now churned.
How close of a call was it really? Was it my own doing or had destiny gracefully wrapped its hand around mine, walking me like a toddler in a park? I thought about it for a second. Had things not gone my way, had I never opened my mouth to rationalize with authority, I could very well be sitting here with no future. And who would I be now? What kind of hollowed out skeleton would I have become? A world I could no longer see, an education I could no longer pursue... I shuddered, acknowledging that a court charge and criminal record would have destroyed me. Maybe not immediately, maybe not in months, but life in that particular light became a downhill slope eventually cascading into the void. I had seen it. I was seeing it.
I rolled the window down and flicked the butt out onto the shoulder, sparks erupting in a volcanic flurry as cig met pavement. My eyes drifted from the sparks in the side-view mirror to the dashboard to the upholstery, and for several seconds I was stunned. This car which now sped off down the highway had been the beginning, the initiation of my reality being split apart like sky being torn by lightning. It was truly hard to believe that Atlas had turned the world on his shoulders only two hours prior.
We weren’t speeding this time. I realized she was doing this consciously as her eyes continually flickered from the road to the speedometer to me, and somewhere deep down I appreciated the needless sentiment. It was flattering, but two hours, an ounce of psilocybin and a sheet of LSD too late. I noticed that her lips were moving, that she was talking. No—we were talking. Up until this second I had been completely disassociated with the conversation; my personality on the frontlines while my mind worked behind the scenes. I actually had to focus on the words that flowed subliminally from my mouth.
My voice didn’t even sound the same. Yes, of course it was the same pitch, same intonation, the same sound, but something about the method to which my words were delivered and constructed perplexed me. There was an edge of confidence and wisdom to how I now spoke, my vocabulary immaculate and tone smooth. Inside, I was bewildered at this sudden maturation. It was strange, but the strangest thing overall was how I observed this like I was looking through a window. It was as if my mind could secede from itself, becoming a separate mental unit in an otherwise collective mental body, and analyse what composed the label of my character. Inner awareness and understanding programmed infinitely into my DNA.
Would I benefit from this?
I finally merged into the conversation, taking control, binding my subconscious lingering with my instinctual speech. The world sped up. I looked at the mountainous horizon emblazoned like a gemstone in the ruby sunset, slowly giving way to the fading sapphire sky. Wisps of cirrus clouds conceived the heavens as orange phantoms naturally pushing towards a new frontier. The sun ignited trees with elemental radiance before gradually crawling behind the peaks, throwing a blanket of shadow across the hills.
As darkness lazily fell, I felt my soul become enlightened with a very real peace. The relentless ocean was gone. The fog had cleared. I was seeing the sky for the first time, for Atlas balanced it on his shoulders.
After what seemed like years, the profound tranquility turned to silence.
“Where are we going?” I asked, breaking it.
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