The Person From The Future

A wave

I sat in my chair again, looking out of my window. The early morning sun was still blocked by the houses across the street. It was Saturday, eleventh of July, somewhere around half past six in the morning. I had no headache this time. The last one hadn't lasted long, but it had been annoying all the same.

When looking away from the same copy pasted houses, I caught sight of something in the corner of my eye. There they were, the same mail carrier as last week, carrying that same obnoxious red bicycle. Out of habit my hand already moved to close the window. Again, they waved and I froze. It was smaller this time, perhaps a little unsure. Just as kind though, that smile.

It was tempting to just pull my curtains closed and ignore the fact that I had seen the person in the first place, but that wouldn't work. It hadn't worked the last time. The image of the brunette that had stood there with that red bicycle, had been stuck in my mind for the whole duration of the past week. If I couldn't get rid of it then. Why would I suddenly be able to now?

The hand that had raised to close the window lowered. My fingers straightened only to contract again a second later. I dropped it down to rest at my side. I had waved. Or well it wasn't exactly a wave. More something like small, weak gesture, it probably didn't even resemble a wave. Nonetheless, In my opinion, I had waved. Or tried to wave, at least.

It had counted for them. And they smiled, they had already been smiling, but this one was brighter. It seemed to be. How was that even possible? Then they were already turning around, taking their red bike in tow as they walked away, continuing to deliver the mail to the people that lived down the the street.

I stood stunned, my eyes trailing after them. I had waved. It wasn't special, just a wave. A small wave and yet I was feeling out of breath. Like I had just ran a marathon. But I hadn't. All I had done was stand up and raise my arm. Perhaps I was having an asthma attack? But that wouldn't make any sense, I didn't even have asthma.

Mulling over the reasons for my quick heart rate in my mind, I slouched back down in my desk chair, draping my arms on the windowsill and laying my head down on the cold plastic. The sun was now starting to rise up above the row of houses and a part of the road was colored in a golden hue, accompanied by the black outlines of rooftops and chimneys. Soon enough the noise of every day life would fill the silence. Not planning to wait for it, I slowly drifted into a dreamless sleep.