Fallout (Crank 3)

ABSORBED BY STATUS QUO

I never really thought very far

beyond the day-to-day. Next year

I’ll graduate high school. Then what?

University? Doubtful. Community

college? Maybe. But I still have no

idea what I want to be. Teacher?

I can’t imagine spending my days

trying to keep kids in line, let alone

trying to teach them something.

Astronomer? I actually love scouring

the heavens, imagining what might be

out there somewhere. But how do you

make money doing that? Doctor?

Blood makes me sick. Stockbroker?

Yeah, right. Some tedious job seems

the likely road, and routine might work

best for me. But will it bring happiness?

Fulfillment? I don’t even know if that matters.

Beyond “what will I do,” where will I live?

I can see Grandfather failing, though

he’d never admit it in a million years,

especially not to himself. If he gets sick,

I’ll take care of him, like he’s taken

care of me. But if he dies … what?

My fingers begin to tingle. I’m alone

now, as I’ll be alone then, swallowed

by silence. I rasp razor-edged air.

On my own. Don’t want to be there.

Can’t breathe. On my own. Must.