Specks Of Dust [Kaylor]

A Regrettable Exit

White shirt and blue jeans?

You know, simple look?

Actually, perhaps not.

Maybe a red shirt?

"Jesus Christ, Karlie, the way you're fussin' about this, I almost think you made up this Taylor just so you can secretly go on a date with some guy." Mom giggled a little, as if she were a teenager again and gossiping with her friends.

"I'm not secretly going on a date, mom!" I defended myself.

"Matter of fact, I'm not going on a date at all. I'm going out to make a new friend, and I thought that was what you wanted me to do." Whatever I said, my mom wouldn't let herself get guilt-tripped by her daughter into stopping her gossipy demeanour.

"Karlie, yeah, I get it. Just tell me if you want the red shirt or the white shirt." On second thought, maybe she would.

"I don't know, you choose." I replied.

"Alright, just wear what you're wearing right now."

I took a last glance in the mirror. I wasn't so sure.

Well, she was probably right.

"OK, thanks." I smiled, albeit a little forcefully.

She sighed. "You know, if you don't like my decision, you could start making your own ones."

The conversation.

The conversation.

"No, it's fine, mom. Really." 

"Alright, whatever you say." She sighed, shaking her head slightly. 

My palms were sweaty. I was fidgeting in the chair in the theater café. It was about three forty-five. We had decided to meet around ten to four.

My watch made it pretty clear that time wasn't moving any more slowly than usual. Agonizingly long, that's about the best way to describe what time felt like right then.

It was clear that the long hand on the clock on the wall would reach that big "10" any moment, but I was only questioning my choices.

Why did I agree to do this? It would only be sweaty torture for me!

I held my breath as the seconds melted away. 

Three...

I didn't dare to breath. 

Two... 

I closed my eyes. 

One... 

I opened my eyes. No one I recognized was even anywhere close to me.