Tomorrow and a Date

Today’s Prompt comes from storyaday.org, by Julie Duffy. The story itself is far from finished, but I think I have a good introduction to something more (don’t ask me what– I don’t know lol). I enjoyed writing from the point-of-view of such a scatter-brained character.

I vaguely remember writing something down in the middle of the night. In the dark. With a pencil (so I don’t have to worry about whether or not the ink works). My eyes open and I turn away from the morning sun glancing through my window.

Why? Why can’t all bedroom windows be north- or south- facing? If I ran the world…

But I don’t. I groan and retrieve my glasses from the side table. The clock reads 6:17; three minutes till my alarm sounds. Might as well get up now.

As soon as she realizes I’m awake, Maera hops up on the bed and rubs herself across my face, gifting me with a mouthful of cat hair. Purrrr-fect. Just the way I wanted to start my day. I grab a tissue and wipe the hair away from my lips and tongue. Maera mews and stares with her big gray eyes; I stand and she hops down to follow. It’s a predictable routine. I pad out of my room and to the front door, where I let her out. 

I make it through my first cup of coffee before I recall the note I left myself. I remember writing something, but I don’t remember what– nor do I remember the dream that prompted it.

Remember, remember. Why can’t I remember? The nonsense lyrics run through my head as I hum the tune Tomorrow, from Annie.

Tomorrow! The word sends a jolt through me and I stand up, bumping the table with my thigh. I reach to catch the coffee before it tips, but there’s no need. 

I dash to my room and grab the notebook I keep by my bed. I read the words written there, scribbled in the dark by a half-asleep hand. No one but myself would ever be able to read it. Probably. I’m not prepared to gamble my life on it, or offer myself as a code-writer or anything.

Tomorrow, I read just as I remembered moments ago. Then, below that, a date: May 3, 1973. 

One Google search and several internet rabbit holes later, I’m no less enlightened and extremely late for work. I throw on some clothes and run a brush through my hair.

Had a flat tire, I text a co-worker, Katie. Just catching a ride with a neighbor. 

I drive into town and park three blocks away from work before jogging the rest of the way on foot. I’ll try to swap out for an early lunch break so I can move the car even further away. My phone pings with a reply from Katie:

Joss says you’re fired if you’re this late again. Didn’t buy the flat tire story. Sorry. :/

Crap on a stick, I curse as I pick up my pace.


I’ll have to worry about Tomorrow tomorrow.

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