Fiction, Writing|

And there it was: The future wasn’t some far off place of never-knowing and endless dreams. It was here. It was now. It was two seconds ago. It was last week. Last month. Last year. It was the moment you were given, without another promised. It was everything, and it was nothing.
It was a lifetime spent thinking about tomorrow and what it would lead to. The possibilities of an unformed day are limitless, and a paralytic agent more powerful than any you might imbibe. The future was fear. It was hope. It was everything you ever thought you needed it to be, until you realize it wasn’t. Then, with only a few precious minutes remaining, you realize that your tomorrows are now yesterdays, and you’ve lost everything you never had.
Looking back on your life, now, you can’t help but still be trapped by the promise of the “future”. Until that moment when you fall asleep for the last time. You never quite mastered what it meant to live in the moment.
Well. Until that last moment.
And maybe that, alone, was worth all of the failed promises of tomorrow.
Or maybe not. It’s over now.


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