A STEP IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION

Act 2: A Penultimate Beginning

The morning after my little adventure with the green leaf of fucking wonders was so much better than I thought it'd be.

I have so much energy. I feel like one of those movie characters that's always so damn upbeat all the time, waking up with enough energy to kill a small child.

Not even the thought of another nine months of wankers and homework are able to diminish this energy.

It's probably got something to do with the "high-sleep" I had last night, a term dubbed by Daryll when he was calming down after I beautifully decorated the floor with my innards.

Ah, I forgot that happened.

And now I remember that I have a number to ring.

Half dressed, half awake, completely oblivious to the slow timer counting down before being late becomes an issue, I scroll through my phone to find the phone number.

"Bingo." I mutter, clicking on the phone icon and watching the screen turn to dial.

Rrrriiiiinnnng rrrriiiiinnnggg

The ringing ceases, followed by a little silence as a feeble "hello?" comes from the other end.

"Hi."

"Who is speaking?"

"Blake, from last night."

"Ah yes," the voice brightens some, "how was the high-sleep?"

I smile some, vaguely remembering the out of pocket dreams I had, all scattered and random. I say remember but I can't recall very much to mind, let alone with any detail.

"Haven't slept better." I settle my reply.

The time on the top of my phone signals that is 7:35, a bit later than what I would like it to, be, so I begin to plead my goodbyes before I'm cut off.

"Didn't you say you have school today, last year right?." I didn't think he'd remember that, I didn't.

"Yeah." I groan, resting the phone eon my bedside table with it in speaker phone as I begin to dress myself.

"Which school?" The voice is muffled by the table, but clear enough to hear the question.

"The one down the road..."

"Bilford."

How'd he guess that?

"How'd you guess?" My thoughts become my words.

"Meet me by Anderson's." The voice rings, before the phone cuts off and the 'call ended' sign appears.

                              .....

The most pathetic goodbyes I've ever given were just dished out to my family, running late and all, and I wish I had woken earlier to actually eat something this morning.

There are hints now, subtle hints, if then end of summer. A sharp gust of wind, the extra cloud here and there to cock-block the sun.

Corners are turned, the taking the scorching beating from the sun are still lovely and warm.

I check of places as I walk, ticking of steps to the mental map I've made to Anderson's, each interesting little bit of the town being a maker to signal how close I'm getting.

As soon as I see the spire of the church, jutting out erect from a surrounding of urban houses and shops, I know this next left will lead me there.

Though, I see nothing as the next left becomes my forward, as the cause of my abrupt stop reminds me of my reasoning for my tangent.