Impending Doom?

A bright spring morning after days of clouds and rain. A good night’s sleep. So why did I wake with a sense of impending doom?  There are no foreboding events on the horizon.  I haven’t violated any obvious rules of mental hygiene, i.e., I don’t stay up late watching slasher movies.  A few times in the past, such uneasiness has preceded nasty events, but not very often.

I did some yoga and meditation, which helped but didn’t dispel the mood.  What I really wanted to do was get outdoors, so I took a walk at a local park.  Afterwards, I felt like a cup of coffee and went to Starbucks.

As I sat down, a man who looked vaguely familiar said, “Morgan?”

I couldn’t quite place him and had to ask his name.  Turns out he and I were friends almost 25 years ago.  He went to work for the state, and I started taking night classes after work, and we lost touch.  I thought he had moved away, but he still lives where he did back then, little over a mile away as the crow flies.

We talked for a while and traded phone numbers.  He said he built a boat and mentioned fishing.  I thought of baseball once the season starts.  The sense of impending doom was gone.  And yet, if it hadn’t been there when I got up…

I wouldn’t have gone to the park…
and would have made coffee at home…
so I wouldn’t have been at Starbucks to cross paths with an old friend.

When I really pay attention, I find I do not understand how anything works.

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9 Responses to Impending Doom?

  1. Rosi says:

    What a nice ending, and such a surprise. I think I smell some flash fiction in the air!

    Like

    • Not immediately. Without a bit of finessing, such events would be too implausible for fiction!

      Like

      • Rosi says:

        “too implausible for fiction…” LOL. It reminds me of something you said in critique one day about a section in my YA book — “This might happen in real life, but no way it could happen in fiction.”

        Like

      • I forget who it was – some well known, contemporary author, who was asked about the difference between life and fiction.

        He said, “Fiction has to make sense.”

        Like

  2. Classic says:

    I love this post – my father, who went to high school in a little place called Marshalltown, Iowa, had a football coach that he came to know quite well.
    Some twenty-five years later, at a Starbucks in Texas, he bumped into that same football coach while he stood in line!

    Incredible how life works sometimes 🙂

    Like

  3. complynn says:

    Maybe the impending doom was waiting at your house while you went out into the world, got tired of hanging around, and left before you got back home. Maybe.

    Like

  4. Sandra Sullivan says:

    Trust the force Luke, I mean Morgan….

    Like

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