Unending Cycle

• Joshua Sherman, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2015

It all started in the afternoon. A day away from the end of autumn, where it would set into winter, and the trees would stand dead, waiting for the inevitable rebirth.

Adam sat out by his window, huddled in a blanket. Arms wrapped around his legs in the fetal position. Dark spots shadowed his eyes, sitting there for months, digging into the skin until they could root into the mind, and eventually, the spirit.

Stacks of paper were left out on the floor, some neatly piled, others scattered with a mess of blankets, towels, and discarded take-out boxes.

A beep sounded in his ears, and for a moment, he turned his head towards the flashing phone. It was an old thing, purchased back in 2006. It was crazy to him that in just a few years it may have very well being a fossil of the genesis of a technological era.

He had almost laughed. A fossil? Floppy disks, now those were old.

“Um, hey....Adam. It's being a while...hasn't it?”

For a time there was silence, short, yet in his eyes long enough to turn the century.

“I, erm” He heard a gulp over the message. “-just wanted to let you know that....Lucy is fine. We have ah, um, nice big backyard for her, and she seems to enjoy it.”

“So..I was erm wondering, would you like to come over and see her.”

Adam threw his shoe, colliding with the back wall with a heavy thud. Flashes of medals, trophies, certificates and awards flying past his eyes, of a brother with troubled speech, half the time tripping over himself.

He almost leaped up from the blanket, ready to pull up the phone and curse at his brother for everything that had gone wrong in his life, an A+ student with a scholar ship and big dreams.

I wanted to be the one riding the coattails of life.

He bit back a sob. It was his own personal ying-yang. Nothing ever felt good when you were stuck between jealousy and love. There was never a middle ground. Just two extremes colliding. The immovable object verse the irresistible force.

A life stuck between memories of an incline turned decline, where the opposite was also true for the failure who found success.

“You, um, always liked your....drinks.” He almost sounded hopeful in his next words. “I...got this really nice whisky. 1,000 per pop. They were originally 1,500, but the seller seemed to really get on with me. There was also this nice view up in Norway. Beautiful mountains. It was really cold, but worth it.”

“So, errm, if you want to come by, give me a call, or hit the Venry train station. I'll be, um, waiting there on Friday. You don't really have much to do, so it would, um, be nice if you came by. See you Adam!”

On Friday, he stood out on the station, waiting for the train. As it rolled in, he turned his back and walked home.