The wind blowing through your window, gently ruffles the curtains obscuring the outside world. It's a beautiful day outside; not too cold, not too hot, a perfect median. The breeze continues to dance along the curtains, shifting them to the side slightly. A minuscule glimpse of sunlight peeks through, disrupting your impromptu evening nap. Your eyes, adjusting to the light, shift over to look at your phone, laying patiently on the nightstand, waiting for you to waste time scrolling through memes. However, today is more important. It's Monday, which means Chick-Fil-A is open.
Lethargically, you extend an arm towards your phone, grabbing for it. A groan escapes as you bite your lip, focusing intently. Your hands can barely reach. Using the tips of your fingers, you attempt to drag the phone closer to you, possibly getting a good grip. Being the failure you are, the phone slides out of your grasp and towards the floor. Luckily, your lightning fast reflexes sends the phone flying angelically straight into the wall. Proceeding with you tumbling off the bed and onto the hard, cold floor, where you lay for a few minutes, mourning. Finally, you consolidate and pick your phone up off the ground, standing up.
You raise your phone to your face and glance at the time, 21:30. Your gaze is blank as you realize you only have thirty minutes. A panic rushes through you. You quickly comb through your hair, splash your face with water, and run out of the house. Only to have to run back in to grab your keys. You check your phone again, 21:42. Eighteen minutes.
As a young person, this is your testimony; to get yourself some good food before it was too late. You've had a hankering for a chicken sandwich since Sunday. Oh, what a sad day that was. You think to yourself, pulling out of the driveway and speeding down the street.
Your mind was only so focused on that one thing that you didn't have time to admire the beauty around you. All the beautiful foliage and soft amber colors setting in the sky. Birds chirped in harmony with car horns honking and the regular sound of an upcoming suburban town square. Anxiously, you glance at the clock. 21:54. Only six minutes.
You consider turning around. Maybe just going to get some other fast food. Was it really worth it? You couldn't turn around now and fall into the depthless pit of millennial desperation.
Your journey comes to an end as you pull into the parking lot of your kingdom. The sun sets behind the Chick-Fil-A like that of a scene in a movie. It's beautiful, but you have no time to gander. You burst through the doors with a only minute to spare. And then that's when you see him.
