An Open Book

I meandered along the twisting paths that weaved between trees and shrubs, flower gardens and Koi ponds all of which comprise our splendid city park. Every ray of sunshine burst into a rainbow of color as it struck the grass coated in morning dew. All my senses sparked to life as I drank in the beauty of this perfect day. Days such as these are what make life worth living, or so I thought at the time.

My time enjoying paradise was coming to an end. The real world intruded into my utopia with the sound of a large clock striking its bells seven times. In my mind I pleaded to Father Time for five more minutes of enjoyment, but he ignored my begging. Home, work, and the everyday struggles of living life was dragging me unwillingly back to reality. It was then as I turned towards home that I spotted it. I have no idea how I missed it while walking by that park bench earlier, but there it was a large leather-bound book splayed open to the middle pages.

I looked around the immediate area expecting to see the books owner, but I was the only one in the park. The book drew me to it like a mouse to cheese. I considered leaving it on the bench, thinking the owner would eventually return to claim it, but that thought quickly evaporated. I wanted to sit on the bench, surrounded by this spectacular day and explore my newfound treasure, but time and life was against me.

I did carve out two precious minutes to thumb through the pages and became baffled by what I found. From the beginning of the book to where the previous owner had left it open contained full pages of text and pictures. The remaining pages were blank. Who could create a book as impressive as this and leave it partially finished. It was a question I would need to ponder at a later time. For the moment, I needed to head for work. I placed a piece of paper between the pages it had been open to, closed the book, and walked briskly away with my newfound treasure under my arm.

My day was more hectic than normal, and I never once gave the book another thought. It wasn’t until closing time that my acquisition reentered my consciousness. I hoisted it off the hat rack, tucked it back under my arm and headed home for what I hoped would be an interesting read. The day had gone from delightful to dismal in just a few hours and I barely made it home before the deluge began. It was the perfect night for a good story, just not the one I was about to discover.

I immediately discovered that the main character and I shared the same name and birthday. What an odd coincidence I thought. It didn’t take long for me to realize that coincidence had nothing to do with it. Somehow my life is being accurately chronicled in this book. Every detail from birth to what I ate for supper last week was listed on these pages. It was both fascinating and terrifying that someone had been following my life down to the smallest detail. Who was doing this and to what end? Somewhere in this book there had to be an answer.

I fanned through the pages until coming to the spot where I had placed the paper as a bookmark. The pages were no longer blank. All my daily activities from breakfast to my walk in the park and right up to reading this book had been recorded. More words appeared on an empty section of the page while I stared at it. I reached to turn to a blank page when a hand blocked me from flipping the page.

Startled, I jumped back and took on a defensive posture. A female in a long flowing robe materialized before me and smiled.

“I’m glad you found this. It’s never a good thing to have this much detail about someone else’s life.”

“Who are you and where did you come from?”

“I have many names but my most common is Guardian Angel. You were never supposed to see this book until the day you die. Like you, I was so bedazzled by the beautiful day I dropped it by mistake. I need it back now.”

“And I don’t get a glimpse into the future?”

“Not in this lifetime my friend, not in this lifetime.”