Vania Joannes

Green Forego

Deacon was just so lost. In an unforgiving and maddening blur of people rushing everywhere, always for someone else, for something else, for somewhere else. Everyone seemed to be in such agreement about reaching the societally defined milestones that mapped out a perfect future. Nobody ever seemed to wonder who had defined these rules in the first place, or why. Or if they even agreed with them personally at all. Of course, he knew his feelings of disappointment likely came from his own clear inadequacy and constant failure. He had never managed to reach any of the milestones you were supposed to reach. By the time he should have graduated from college and started a career like all of his friends he was just settling down from travelling and just starting to think about what the rest of his life might look like. He just could never decide what he wanted longer than one moment to the next. While it was fun to be carefree and spontaneous, half a bottle of vodka into his twenty-eighth birthday he was realizing that now it had just become exhausting. He wanted to know what everyone else seemed to know, to know for sure where he was going and have the security that came with following the road well traveled. As he slowly faded into sleep he was aware of two things: he was ready to focus and find out what he was really made of, and of a faint green light blinking in the distance of his peripheral vision on his right side.