RYAN DAVID GINSBERG
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short stories
​

October 3rd

3/29/2017

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     sometimes the stars align perfectly. sometimes you miss your bus and find yourself with an additional twenty minutes to kill. sometimes there is a coffee shop on the same corner as your bus stop. sometimes the love of your life is sitting in the corner booth of said coffee shop. and sometimes you have just enough courage to walk over and say hello.
     well, today is october 3rd and none of those things happen for kamron.
     instead, clouds fill the sky and cover every desire of the stars. kamron wakes right as his alarm goes off. he has mastered his morning routine. he arrives at the bus station thirteen seconds before the bus pulls up. he hops on and begins his morning commute. the love of his life, her name probably something like scarlett or lizabeth, really is sitting in the corner booth of that coffee shop this morning, but kamron isn’t much of a coffee drinker and, let’s be honest, scarlizabeth would never allow a man like kamron to even consider talking to her. he is not exactly genetically gifted. cursed? maybe. probably. most certainly. plus, there isn’t a courageous bone in his lanky body. just anxiety flowing through his genetically cursed veins.
     october 3rd is not a day for fairytales. there is no once upon a time and there is absolutely no happily ever after. in fact, you can forget all about scarlett or lizabeth or whatever other crush you are imagining in your head, because neither kamron nor you are ever going to end up with any of them. forget the happy endings your mother read to you as you dozed to sleep as a kid. they are all bullshit. just like this smelly, overcrowded bus kamron rides every day to work.
     after an hour has vanished from his life, kamron finally finds himself in front of his office building. he exits his bus and contemplates every decision that has led him to this very moment, then lets out a sigh for no reason other than it slightly delays his entrance to work. once the sigh has ended, he walks inside.
     he finds himself in the familiar cubicle prison on the eighth floor. he says nothing to his coworkers as he walks by and they say nothing to him.
     on kamron’s desk, he finds the familiar mountain of manila folders. inside each of them, is a stack of paper filled with words that would put even the most passionate historian to sleep. he sits, grabs the top folder, and then drifts into daydreams.
     at noon, kamron makes his way to the cafeteria. on a cracked tray, kamron gets some mashed potatoes from a box and microwaved turkey. he says no to the side salad, but yes to the soggy garlic bread. just as he did yesterday. and just as he will tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that. it is tuesday, in case you were trying to figure it out.
     he eats slowly, savoring every bite. not because the food is tasty in any way, but rather because his corporate overlords have sent many emails recently about employees who sit idly by in the cafeteria after they have finished their lunches, when they should instead be contributing to making the company more successful. in other words, once you’re done eating, get the hell back to work, my sheep!
     if kamron was wiser he would say yes to the side salad, more food equates to more time spent eating. but, then again, if kamron was wiser he would not be stuck in this hellhole. kamron is constantly hindering himself with his own stupidity.
     eventually, kamron finds himself back in his cubicle. in his absence, he was assigned a few new manila folders to work on. his stomach grumbles, even after years of consuming the same daily meal it has yet to adapt. kamron’s eyes gloss over the folder’s content, but his mind retains none of it. the clock overhead ticks and ticks and ticks and ticks.
     finally, it strikes five. kamron is the first one out the door. he walks briskly to the bus stop, says nothing to the familiar faces, and begins his commute back home.
     everything, all of october 3rd, goes exactly as it always does.


     oh, just a side note, scarlizabeth met her future husband three days later on october 6th. they got married the following may. then divorced two decembers later.
     but kamron will never meet her. not in a coffee shop. not at a bar. not anywhere.
     ​because, like i said, fairytales are bullshit.
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