Wandering Ideas

Predestined

Marcus Lowe woke up just like yesterday and the day before and the day before and so on. He gazed at the tan ceiling for a moment while he blinked himself fully awake. He looked over at his wife, Naomi, who of which was still asleep. The man failed at stifling a yawn as he stretched his arms. The clock's red numbers mocked him: 3:48 AM, they read. But the hues of a sunrise had poured into the room. How peculiar! Perhaps something was wrong. Dismissing the crazy notion, Marcus stood up, the cool tan carpet brushing the soles of his feet as sand did at a beach. Naomi turned to the opposite side of the bed, temporarily making him believe he had awoken her. ...no, she was still sleeping. A small sigh of relief passed in the air. Marcus blinked a few more times and made his sight more clear. He gazed around the room.

Everything seemed perfectly normal and familiar. Well, other than the oranges and reds dancing through the window at a normally dark hour. How odd indeed. He was fine, but what of the outside world? Though, something told him another thing was out of place with the area before him, but he could not see anything that piqued his interest. This was...normal? No. It couldn't be, but what if it was? It felt familiar, but... did normality equal familiarity? 'Yes,'  Marcus concluded. This was normal. He was okay. He was fine in his own home, but the outside was... wrong.

Lowe shook the thoughts off and headed into the kitchen downstairs. Carpet met wood as he began his descent. Oh...okay, rather he went into the bathroom. He had to get the grit from his eyes for his sight to become more enhanced. Marcus let the cool water wash the worries and weird conclusions from his mind. He stopped worrying about the Military, his life, his brothers-in-arms, all of it was being pulled down the drain. All the residue was flowing into an unknown fate, never to be seen again.

After drying his face, Marcus then started towards the staircase. Seventeen steps awaited his journey down. As he began to get closer to the ground, Marcus began to wonder.

Isn't it a bit crazy that he could easily jump over the railing and hurt/kill himself? Would destiny and/or fate have this programmed if he decided to? What prevented him from doing it? What is the meaning of living if you can easily change or end it whenever you want? (Not that he wanted to) If he decided to and destiny had not been set on this outcome, would his fate shift, too? Has everything already been preordained or does the destiny shift with each time we make a choice? Perhaps it is only the journey to reach the end that morphs? Would anyone miss him? When would the day be when no one in this world would even remember he existed? Would that be his true death? Is death simply a shifting to another life? A true end? Why is there a 'd' when it's a fridge, but not in refrigerator? Who created the alphabet? And what if he didn't, what of predestination then? Would another person arise to create it or would the modern one be delayed or even erased?

Perhaps another time to ponder these questions would come.

He walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed the half-gallon of milk. Rain soon softly tapped on the window. A lullaby of a false percussion played outside. Naomi loved the rain, especially when she was reading. To Marcus, it was just water. A repeating cycle of the same water that's on Earth. Up, down, up, down, up, down. Wow, he thought as he poured the cereal in the blue bowl, it's all just a neverending cycle.

He chose not to dwell on the crazy realization and began to tilt the jug over his cereal. The only thing that paused him was the rapid knocking on a door. 'Huh. Don't recall a door being there...'  the man thought as he stood there in awe. Stalking towards the entryway with a confused demeanor, Marcus almost tripped over the small puppy who was previously resting on the floor, who was now awake. "Heh. Sorry Azzy..." The dog didn't even acknowledge the thumping on the mysterious door nor the man's apology.

The man soon found himself before the peculiar item. He felt fear, excitement and curiosity grapple his heart all at once as he grasped the handle. With one small turn of the wrist, Marcus opened the door.