“October 16: Recap of October 14 prompt
Write a post in the style of (or simply inspired by) a favorite author
Here’s the final portion of the short story! To all my new readers, I’ve included the first two partitions I wrote a couple posts back just so you can see its entirety. Enjoy!
On a rainy afternoon, in the bustling city of Washington D.C., I sit next to the window seat at a cafe amidst the smell of deep dark coffee beans brewed at the spot and the faint smell of the pastries lingering under the bright neon lights of the display case at the register. It’s already 4pm, I checked my watch repeatedly. It’s not like I was waiting for someone to meet up with me. But why do I have this constant feeling that time is running out? I keep staring at my watch to try and decipher the answer to my question. “Excuse me miss, is there someone sitting with you at this table?,” a man asked as I got lost in trance by looking at my watch. As I looked up, it was a man that I’ve never met before. However, deep down inside the depths of my heart…it felt like a long lost love. Where have I met him before? Do I know him? It feels like I do, I thought as I clamored to move my cup and saucer aside to make room for him. “Oh I’m so sorry to disturb you, you must have been a little busy and I was just wondering if I can sit next to you since there is room. The view is nice over here,” the man said as he longingly stared out of the window sit as the rain droplets dripped down the glass. He was fairly well dressed: a nice deep blue denim jacket that looked somewhat worn but it fit him right in the shoulders, a black v-neck t-shirt, as well as black jeans. But what caught my eye were his glasses, it’s as if those glasses had the power to see right through me. The type of glasses you would see on a Saturday cartoon show about superheroes where they are able to do an X-ray scan of anything. Gold and thick framed on the top but a thin frame on the bottom. His eyes were more emphasized than his glasses as his light brown eyes looked like burning amber stones looking right back at me. I swear I’ve seen this guy before, I pondered slowly as I started sipping at my coffee looking at the window. “It’s totally fine,” I replied,”no one else is sitting here but me”. He looked at me straight in the face, catching my attention as I replied and there was a sound of a bell. Its echoes lingered but I couldn’t pinpoint the source of the sound. It must’ve been all in my head. “I know this might sound super weird but I have this feeling that we met before. If we did, I apologize for everything escaping my memory…,” he said nervously with his voice trailing off. I didn’t catch it at the time but I was definitely flustered by the statement and didn’t notice my face turning red as I hid it sipping on my coffee. Without thinking, I said the two words that left my mouth and my mind totally caught in trance:
My eyes closed momentarily after saying the words “Paper Planes” and it began to echo so loud I lost all sense of feeling in my body. I wake up in an empty white room. Discovering that I was lying face up towards the ceiling of this room, the starkness of the white walls seemed to slowly dissipate from the bright lights right above me. Why am I here? Where am I? The moment I asked these questions to myself my memory began fading even more.
Who am I?
A man dressed in all white with gold framed glasses entered the room. As soon as he enters the room, he sees a table with a blank piece of paper lying on the table. A blank piece of paper with no lines to distinguish its identity from the rest. Meaningless. He approaches the table in order to see if anything else was on the paper. Without hesitation, the man starts to begin examining the paper by holding it in his hands. The white paper seemed like a big contrast to his skin as he held it up to the light. He places the sheet of paper on the table once more and begins to fold it. Each fold was created with careful precision. Corner to corner. Crease to crease. Slowly, the piece of paper began to transform in his very eyes and the final crease was added. Complete. Sitting on the table was once a blank sheet of paper and is now transformed into a paper airplane. What was once meaningless is now given a purpose. The purpose to fly. The man picks up the paper plane with great care and proceeds towards one side of the room where an opening formed that led to the outside environment. Big billowing clouds floated up ahead while the ground was as clear and sharp as a mirror reflecting the clouds in the sky. The man starts to pull back its arm and slowly moves it forward to launch the paper plane into the air. “Fly. Fly. Fly as high and as far as you can,” he whispered as he launched the paper plane. The paper plane took flight and flies among the birds of feather and iron towards the sun. The paper plane slowly transforms once more as it lets the air current pass beneath its wings. The air gave the paper plane life and the sense of feeling as the wind reaches each corner and each crease of its body. The paper plane felt ultimate happiness flying up above the clouds towards the sun. However, something happens mid-flight when the paper plane starts to turn its nose towards the rear to catch a glimpse of the man in the white room. It kept remembering the memories it had during the time when it was just a plain blank piece of paper. The paper plane ignored the wind gust that was approaching its direction as the birds of feather and iron change their flight direction. It continues to fly that way until it turns its nose back around and realizes that its falling. “Down. Down. Down you go,” says the man as he watches the paper plane descend from the sky.
As the paper plane falls from the sky, the man at the window of the white room cries silently for he cannot do anything to stop his creation from falling into the abyss.
A loud bell rings once more.
Everything disappears and I find myself staring out the window seat of the café. “Do you remember anything, miss?” the man asked once more as he leans closer to see where I was looking.
“Why yes, I remember now. I used to fly once, you know.”
Time has passed, maybe about 30 minutes or so, as I checked my watch once more. Everything, as in all of the emotions, the memories, the colors, playing throughout my mind as I sat in front of the man that stared at me with question marks in his eyes. He’s probably still clueless with what is happening right now, I thought to myself. Even though he doesn’t remember me just yet, I know who I am now. I know why I am here at this moment, sitting in this cafe in front of him.
I was given another chance. Another chance to fly.
[ I am that paper airplane. I was just a measly piece of blank paper until that man…the pioneer…the creator…my one true love gave me life and gave me a purpose in life to fly. I remember memories of being in the air as I look back at him, happily and lovingly, but I also remember my downfall as I was blown off my course of flight by a gust of wind from the opposite direction. That gust of wind determined my unfortunate fate of seeing my dear love crying as I fell from the sky. However, something happened as I hit the reflective ground. Was it even ground? It felt like I dove right into water…into an ocean. I kept falling and descending but my paper body started disintegrating and began to mold into an organic form. Slowly as I descend far beyond the depths of the ocean where the light can reach, I realized that I became my creator’s image. I had a body of flesh, with hands and feet to match. My fingers look and felt like my creator’s as he folded and carefully pressed each crease into my form. As I examined my new form, for some reason, something lulled me into deep sleep. It felt peaceful once more, just like that time in the white room when I first saw him. However, my deep slumber didn’t last very long for I experienced a new birth into a world unknown. I was taken away from the depths and brought again into the light. Another white room with bright lights? All I can remember from that time were the words: “Welcome to this world, baby girl”. ]
I have become my creator’s image. I was given another chance. To live. To love. To fly. My feelings of unconditional raw love manifested into my new life now.
Here I am sitting in front of the man who still doesn’t have an idea of who I am. But does that really matter anymore? I continue to sip my coffee as tears slowly roll down my face. “Miss, are you okay? I sincerely apologize for being so abrupt with the questions. I’ll just head off now. I feel like I’ve disturbed you. I’m so sorry,” he said nervously as he reached for the napkins. He passes the napkins towards me and starts to get up when I grabbed his arm from moving any further. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I’m okay. I was just having a moment. We probably met before…or maybe not. I might just look like someone familiar. But anyways, there’s no harm in reintroducing ourselves again, right?,” I replied as I smiled at him. It felt like a reunion for me. My tears still rolled down my face but my smile said it all. When he saw me smile, he paused and let out a sigh of relief. He sat back down across from me once more at the window seat of this cafe. He reciprocated the genuine smile that I fell in love with before…
I reached out my hand towards him and said, “Hi, my name is….”
Thank you everyone for taking the time to read this! As promised, I decided to leave off saying which author I was inspired to write this short story until now. So, the author that inspired me to write this is: Haruki Murakami! I am a big fan of his works and have yet to read all of his literary pieces but I am totally hooked. I decided to attempt to play with the border of reality and magical surrealism that I’ve read in past books such as 1Q84 and Colorless Tsukuru. This theme stuck out to me the most and it actually had me sucked into the story. I do have to warn you, do not try and read this while commuting! I’ve missed so many stops just because I went chapter to chapter without raising my head because I was too caught up in another world~
Anyways, maybe I’ll try to write more short stories like this piece. For some reason, there’s still something within me…more like a gut feeling, telling me to keep pushing forward with this style of writing. I don’t even know where to start if I were to tell you all stories of some of the most vivid dreams I’ve had. When that golden hour strikes again, maybe just maybe, a short story might come into conception. Please feel free to leave any suggestions or feedback on the comment section below! Much appreciated!!