A Conversation with Future

I had a most interesting conversation with myself. I couldn’t be sure if it was a dream or a memory or a dream of a memory or a memory of a dream.

It was a Cloudy Sunday morning. As usual, I woke up very late in the Morning after writing Stories until Midnight. I was thinking about a perfect end for my new story, The Lonely Palace, late at night. I picked my Mobile Phone to check if I have enough battery to finish the day. Furthermore, I noticed that I had eight missed calls from my mom. I live alone in a far away city from my parents. I called her back, sitting in my Bed.

“You only got leisure time now to call your mother?”, asked an old woman’s voice through the phone

“I woke up only now.”

“You slept late then?” she questioned.

“Yeah, I’ve been writing a story until Midni-”

“Have you decided yet?”, She interrupted with another question, without even listening to the answer for her first question.

I was completely mystified and asked, “Decided about wh--” suddenly I remembered about what she was asking, “nope. Not yet.”

“You’ll be in your Thirties before you decide, with no one agreeing to marry you”, she said sarcastically.

I said,“ I’ll tell my decision in a few days” and hanged up the phone.

Since I'm 28 now, She’s been asking my decision about my Marriage. The same reason why I left my parents and started living alone in a faraway place from them. I wanted to become a writer before my Thirties. I’m afraid that if I marry, I’ll go on a different path.

I stretched my hands to pick up a cigarette near a Photo frame with a photo of me dressed as a Doctor for the school competition. I suddenly felt Nostalgic. I remembered that the title of the competition was, ‘Your future Goal’.

“Good Old Days”, I said to Myself.

I wake up from my bed and stood near the window, lighting up the cigarette. I live in a rented House which is near a park. I noticed an Old man sitting in the park with a Chessboard in front of him with all pieces placed and ready to be played. But the old man doesn’t have anyone to play. I threw my cigarette from my window and started doing my Morning Chores.

After finishing my chores, I went to the park with my pen and My story notebook to get Ideas for my story's ending. As I was taking a walk in the park, I saw that same old man. He’s still in the same place where he was a few hours ago, waiting for someone to play chess with him. I noticed that he was wearing a Black shades and Black suit. I can’t see his face clearly, but I’m pretty confident that he's gray haired.

As I was walking, he saw me and said, “Hello, Arthur”.

I was confused and shocked to hear my name from a suspicious man. I ignored him and started to walk rapidly.

“Can’t you hear me, Arthur Morgan?” he asked.

I was too stunned to move. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”, I questioned him.

He pointed a chair which is in the opposite side to him and said, “Sit here. We’ll talk”.

I was convincing myself that he is just another Matchmaker sent by my Mom to convince me into Marriage, even though he doesn’t look like one. I started to get an eerie feeling around him as I walk towards him.

I sat before him. Only the chessboard is in between me and that old man. After looking from close, I felt like he resembled me but old. I asked, “Do I know you, Old man?”.

He ignored my question and asked,“Why don’t we play chess, Arthur?”

I started to think that he is a Thief. But even though if he is, he is just an old man. He can’t overpower me. So, I agreed to play chess with him.

He made the First move. He moved pawn from G2 to G4.

I moved my knight from B8 to A6. I waited for him to make a move. He moved his pawn from B2 to B4. I was surprised by his First and Second move because that’s always been my beginning moves, ever since I knew chess.

“These moves look familiar to you, doesn’t they?” he asked.

I didn’t say anything. He continued, “I’m you, Arthur. I’m you from Future.”

I busted out in laugh. “I thought you’re a Thief, but you're just an Idiotic old man”, I said and picked my Pen and Notebook and proceeded to leave from there.

He saw me leaving and asked, “Didn't you came here to get a perfect end for your story, The Lonely Palace?”

I was shocked to hear that. Not a single soul besides me know the title of the story that I’m writing. I was at a loss for words to reply him.

“How-how you know the title of my story?”. I asked.

“ I know that because I am you.” he replied.

I was too shocked to speak anything. The silence was too loud between us.

After a few minutes of sitting there and recollecting the events that happened, I started to believe him. To break the awkward silence, I asked, “what’s your age now?”. He replied, “I still have four years as a quinquagenarian”.

Countless questions started to pop in my head. I started asking him about our future. I asked, “So did we end up writing Stories and Novels and living In Paris? ”, as we continued to play Chess.

“No. Is that what we wanted to do with our lives?”, he asked

“Since we were 21, Yeah”

“I doubt that’s what we wanted to do with ourselves ”, he replied.

“It is” I said. He rejected that by saying, “No”.

He continued, “Well perhaps, we wanted it, but we doesn’t really wanted it”.

“I still want to do those things, which means you want to do those things.”,I replied.

He said, “As I remember, kids came along, and we had to get a real job.”

I asked him shockingly, “What kids? I never wanted to marry before becoming a writer, remember?”

“You’ll change your mind.”

“I don’t want to change my mind”

“Give it time”, he said. I was left speechless.

As he cornered my king, he said, “Checkmate”.

I asked, “You don’t remember being me, do you?”.

He made a small glance at me and replied, “You were a very long time ago”.

I wake up from there and started to walk away to my home.I was overwhelmed by sadness knowing that I'm not going to become what I want. I looked back and he was smiling at me.

It must be very strange to look back on the remnants of who you were. He seemed to me, like a villain. Perhaps, if I were to go back in time and say to my school-self that I want to become a Writer Instead of Doctor, I would look like a villain to him. Maybe you can never stay the Hero, even in your own story.

I reached back home and looked out from my window. He wasn't there.