101 Words

Unread emails beckoned William as he sat on the hotel room bed. He paused. Where was he today?

San Francisco. Cable cars, oyster bars.

There must be something more.

The Uber came and took him west. He walked toward the bright horizon until the sand turned wet and firm. He looked out upon the rolling vastness.

Foaming seawater surged onto the beach and overtook him. It came up to his knees and soaked his wool slacks.

That evening, William walked into the hotel lobby in his underwear, holding wet pants, and grinning uncontrollably. It was nothing the clerk hadn’t seen before.

The engineer worked with a tiny flashlight between her teeth. Oxygen deprivation turned her eyelids heavy. She’d die, and take the whole generation ship with her.

Her eyes blinked closed, but she jolted awake when the wires burned her fingers, accidentally fused two ends of the glowing blue wire. She hurriedly freed it from the power relay, hope welling inside of her.

Desperately reckless, she bypassed the anti-grav panel and completed the circuit.

The overhead lights flickered.

She waited, anticipating the crash into dead blackness. The milliseconds ticked into seconds, and the ship’s power ticked on.

Crisis averted. For now.

I stood on the edge, staring down into an abyss of adult life. Of deadlines and work meetings, of rent payments and electricity bills. Messages left on the noticeboard instead of paintings hung up on the fridge.

It shouldn’t have been so terrifying.

Wasn’t it supposed to be easy? I’d always thought it would be. My birthday would arrive and I’d smile because turning twenty-one would include a manual on how to cope with everything growing up entailed.

The clock turned midnight. I didn’t get a manual.

Instead, forced to stare at the abyss, all I received was a whisper: “Jump.”

“It’s your decision,” she says, scratchy pen hovering over photocopied paper. A narrow stare of pity and judgement.

I look at my fingers, scratched and bloodied. My lip feels fat against my teeth. My ribs protest as I shakily inhale.

I think of the apologies coming my way; the love, dropping like a nuclear bomb, saturating me in radiation. Will never happen again. Never. Just love you too much. Please.

My breath settles.

I made my choice before she walked in. She knew my choice before she sat down.

“Your decision,” she says, again.

“I fell down the stairs,” I say.

“No! I told you, ‘Grazie’ means thanks,” Jamie said. “‘Scusami’ is excuse me.”

Tanya sighed. Rome’s bustling station and Jamie were too much. “Scusami,” she mumbled.

The small crowd parted.

“Grazie,” Tanya said, sidling past, her boyfriend following.

“You really should’ve learned Italian, like I did,” he said.

“I know a little…”

“Just leave it to me.” He patted her arm. “Now, where do we get our tickets?” He gazed at the booths. “Wow, a lot of trains are going to Chiuso, aren’t they?”

Tanya gasped.

When she’d finished laughing, she said, “I know one word for sure. ‘Chiuso’ means ‘Closed’.”

Devansh and I got into a fight during freshman band. In our defense, we didn’t like each other. The teacher had no idea, but still, she should’ve noticed how the two of us glared at each other every day.

We argued, and Devansh snapped. He said I was done for.

“Meet me in the parking lot after school. We’re gonna fight like men.”

I took the bus home, watching the spot where the teachers parked. I was too good for fighting. Or too scared. I didn’t care. I just didn’t want to get hurt.

Devansh was sitting two seats behinds me.