The Man in the Top Hat

I sat, enveloped by the sun's rays, in an oversized, purple chair. Even so, I was bundled from head to toe in a thick sweatshirt, sweatpants and heavy wool socks.

I was staying in a hotel in Seattle, Washington. The weather was, not surprisingly, cold, wet and dreary. It was January 21st, 2024.

I sat unmoving, thinking about how drastically my life had changed in a few short weeks. A strange and unusual experience had propelled me forward in such a powerful way. I had begun working with a desire and tenacity that I didn’t even know was in me.

It was on January 1st, 2024 when it happened...

A dark, shadowy figure was standing in my yard. He was tall, wore a black top hat, a long coat down to his heels, and large sunglasses that hid most of his face.

I jumped out of my porch chair. A scream was stuck inside of me, lodged in my throat. My heart was pounding out of my chest. My ability to make any sound was gone and instead, I remained frozen in place, staring at the man or creature. He followed suit and stared back at me, unmoving, only a few feet away from me. We were like two animals, unable to decide who would make the first move, to either run or lunge towards the other.

He spoke first, calmly, his voice flowed like smooth, rich coffee, it was otherworldly.

“Today's the day!" He stated exuberantly.

I remained locked in place, standing stiffly with one leg taut behind the other, ready to make a beeline towards the door, my cell phone held tightly under my chest, I wanted to dial 911 but I didn't dare drop my eyes from his, in case he a gun, or some other weapon, in his oversized coat.

He repeated, "Today's the day!"

And to my surprise, he continued, "You've waited your whole life for this, Indigo."

Standing in my yard he was already trespassing, and knowing my name and stating it to me made things even more unnerving.

"You're running out of time." A clock appeared in his outstretched fingertips. Even though people no longer used clocks with hands in 2024, I could see the long arm, moving rhythmically, ticking, over and over again. The way time moves, continually, gracefully with a consistent cadence, marching on whether you liked it to or not.

"Who are you?" My voice came out as a shrill squeak, unsteady and unnerved.

I wish I sounded confident. I was the cat in this game, for all I knew this man was a ravenous Doberman who was ready to kill at any moment. But I didn't know anything, other than I didn't want this weird entity standing in the grass on my property and that he had no right to be there. Or perhaps, he did…

"You've wanted this your whole life and I'm here to push you forward into the New Year!" He smiled slightly.

It was disturbing.

There was something about him. The way his glasses covered most of his face, how tall he was, over 6.5ft, no doubt. The way his coat covered nearly his entire being, running down to his feet.

It was January 1st, 2024, and things were already moving in an utterly, bizarre direction.

"Come with me." He held out his hand which seemed mostly normal. Though large, it fit his stature.

"No thank you," I replied, my voice sounded stronger, less shaky. But my legs were numb. This sensation of adrenaline being released in me. I had experienced this competing in sports in my earlier lifetime, a feeling of not being in my body, and yet fully aware of every sensation happening inside of me. The insane pounding of my heart against my chest, the shallow breaths rushing in and out of my lungs, and the tingling in my hands and legs, like pins and needles being stuck into me.

He didn't argue, instead he waved his hand slightly and suddenly. I found myself at a restaurant sitting with my parents. Oh, how young they looked! And how young I felt! The persistent pain in my knee that had been hindering me for months was gone. I felt lighter, my body felt strange, great actually! I put my hand on my face. The bumpy acne I was used to feeling, was gone. My face was completely smooth. I recognized this moment, this memory.

There was a group of servers that had come around our table. A young woman, much older than me in this memory, but likely no older than twenty-two, was holding a large basket. In it was an array of goodies. It was an orange bucket, with Halloween toys and candy. There were yo-yos and spinning tops. There were stuffed bears and all types of chocolates. Laffy-taffy, Airheads, and Skittles littered the edges. A small bag of ghost-shaped cookies and a gift card for this restaurant protruded from the top of the basket.

"We understand this is Indigo Lazyryn?" The waitress asked.

"Yes," my dad replied. I could see the look of confusion, a hint of concern, etched across his face.

"Indigo entered our writing contest a month ago. We had a lot of entries and after reading all of them, we all decided she had written the best one! She won!" The server looked at me, smiling and handed me the overflowing gift basket.

I felt a grin burst across my face as I took the prize. I felt a sense of pride and excitement any 10-year-old would've felt in "winning" something. At that moment, I knew I might be sort of good at this endeavor called "writing."

I found myself in my yard again. The tall man still stood a few feet away, holding the pocket watch that had appeared earlier in his hand. It dawned on me momentarily that we don't carry pocket watches in this era. This man didn't seem to belong from this time, this realm.

The fear that had encapsulated me was gone. The memory was so vivid, so real, so nostalgic. And the feeling of pride that had come from that moment, lingered inside me. The debilitating fear was replaced with curiosity.

"What are you?" I wracked my brain for a better question. Everything felt so bizarre at that moment.

"I'm the man in the top hat." His cryptic response was.

"I don't understand," I said slowly, and steadily. I had found my voice again.

"I represent time," He replied. And with that, a dark cloud appeared over the hill. It began to rain, slowly and then in torrents. It grew darker, I could barely make out his tall figure.

"What are you here for?" I screamed into the pounding raindrops. I still stood in the same spot on my porch deck, covered with a segment of roof that was built over the deck to keep it mostly dry from the weather that came throughout the seasons.

I couldn't make out anything, the rain came in quarter-size drops. What strange weather for the first day of January! But everything about 2024, so far, was completely unreal.

The rain suddenly ceased as quickly as it began. The man was gone. But in place of him was a circle of large mushrooms. I didn't dare step into the circle. They were large and shaped like upside-down ice cream bowls. They were pale and yellow, and the diameter of the circle was about 3 feet across.

But the mushrooms coaxed me, the way curiosity kills the cat that doesn't get eaten by the Doberman but instead finds her way into a pack of wolves. What did I have to lose at this point anyway?

My life had been somewhat meaningless. I worked a typical 9-5 job. I was barely making ends meet, paying taxes, and being a good citizen in this crazed and hopeless world. I had sought to become so much more and yet, by thirty-three, I had given up on nearly any hope or dream I had in this lifetime. There was nothing to lose at this moment in my life.

I stepped into the circle.

I found myself staring at a glass-covered wall at the middle school I had attended as an adolescent. I could feel the same sensation in my body, youth, joy, and a lightness like I was nearly floating off the ground. Inside the glass encasement were pieces of poetry. I had written one of them. It was titled, In my hand, I hold a fairy. I had won second place. The same sense of pride swelled inside of me. I knew I liked to write. I liked it a lot and I did it a lot.

I would read during classes in school, all sorts of books. And when I wasn't reading, I was writing. I never listened to teachers because I felt that most adults weren't that intelligent anyway. Besides, I liked the feeling of pen to paper, of writing my feelings, writing about the happenings of my day, writing about surprises, and all of the magical things about this world we lived in.

I stared at my poetry behind the glass and the feeling of pride was overwhelmed with a feeling of sadness.

What had happened? How did I get this far into my life and not have lived it? I dropped my head, a tear falling from my eye. And as it hit the school's ugly, red carpet, the red turned into a vivid green, and I was standing in my yard's tall grass again. The mushroom circle was gone.

Three days passed.

I was standing behind the cash register, back to the daily grind of work. It was Thursday, January 4th, 2024. Suddenly, a tall man appeared before me. He had a package of uncooked beef, a box of tissues, and a pack of gum. An odd assortment. I felt my body freeze. He must've been over 6.5ft. tall. I recognized him from that dream I had had early this week. He wore sunglasses that covered his face, a tall black hat, and a long trench coat. He didn't look up at me right away.

I slowly began to scan his items. And in an abnormally, jerky movement, he lifted his sun-glassed eyes to meet mine. My body tensed up; I stopped moving.

"Write..." He said, "Get out of here and write!"

I felt my eyes widen, my mouth was very dry.

"What?" I managed to whisper nearly under my breath.

"You were not put on this planet to do this." He waved his hand around the shopping center. "You know what you are here for, and you are running out of time!"

And his final statement lit a flame in my soul, “This is a gift you were given, to share with the world, please don’t get to the end of your life and realize what a grave mistake you made. A mistake in not sharing your words, your passion, your inspiration with the human species.”

And with that, he walked briskly out of the building.

I held the pack of gum in one hand and tissues in the other. Unable to move, unable to figure out what to do as he walked out, leaving his grocery items behind.

Finally, I managed to think clearly again.

I looked at my manager and stated cautiously, "Today's the day."

He looked back at me, confused.

"Today's the day!" I repeated jubilantly, a sense of deep knowing, power and desire overtook my body. This was not what I was supposed to be doing with my life.

I knew what I had to do, my body felt light and young again. My heart swelled with hope, more hope than it had in years.

"Today's the day I write!" I squealed.

I could feel eyes staring at me. This was no way for a person to act but I didn't care. I had a goal, a dream and I was going to spend the rest of my life fulfilling it!

I was going to write.

I was going to make a living writing.

I was going to write to change lives, to inspire others, to tell the world my story.

I was going to write in 2024, every single day!

And so, I began writing.

Now, 21 days later, I’ve been working unceasingly. Everyday I awaken to begin:

A journal entry.

A blog post.

An email.

A contest to enter at Vocal.

It doesn’t matter what it is as long as I write and I write with passion, persistence, and unwavering focus.

And as I was sitting in my hotel that morning, in Seattle, I pulled my head up from my notebook. And for a split second, I thought I saw the man in the top hat, standing on the hotel porch, holding his pocket watch, smiling slightly.

A Word from the Author:

A prophetic dream? Perhaps. Either way, I have created 5 intentions that I have followed in 2024 with an unceasing drive and determination:

1.) Write daily. No matter what kind of writing… Journaling, blogging, copywriting, just write!

2.) Write a minimum of 4 blogs a month.

3.) Study writing every day.

4.) Read a minimum of 1 book per month.

5.) Enter at least 1 writing contest per month in Vocal.