Noon in New York

The day dragged on for Nicole.  Everytime she got ready to go, something drew her back to her desk.  She was unsure if she should leave the report to finish tomorrow or if she should just complete it now and get it over with.  She sat in front of the blank white computer screen, typing half a word and stopping.  No, she would wait until tomorrow, she thought.  Nicole forced herself to get up from the chair and take her black faux leather purse from the hook next to her desk.  She hurried along the corridor to the elevator.  She stood in thought momentarily, then pushed the button for the lobby.  The elevator doors opened and Nicole stepped gingerly inside.

She bit her lip in deep concentration, perhaps the sting of hard enamel in soft flesh would help her in the decision she faced.  There was too much at stake to take this lightly.  The elevator door opened and a soft ding brought her back to the present.  Nicole pushed her way past a tall ebony haired beauty whose perfume smelled of old money and made her way out onto the sidewalk.  She walked slowly along the pale path; she stopped several times with the conviction to turn around and go back to her desk.  After walking two blocks over, she stood in front of a grimy building with a set of swinging glass doors beckoning for her to enter.  She paced back and forth; nobody paid attention to her as she muttered to herself, it was a normal sight on the streets of New York. Her pale suede heels clicked along the cement, the monotonous rhythm comforting to her troubled psyche.

Her mind worked feverishly, every decision she came close to making created a paradox that she found herself stumbling through over and over.  Nicole wrung her hands together lightly, as if hand washing delicate fabrics.  Time was running out but there was so much for her to consider.  If there truly were such things as parallel universes, then the choice she made today would affect not only her own future but that of her parallel selves!  Her mind chewed through her arguments, spitting back such obscene ideas that she could not even fathom their source.  Surely she could not think such disgusting things!!

Nicole peered solemnly at her sterling silver Boliva watch, damn only twenty minutes left.  A decision had to be made now!  The voices of ego and id suddenly went silent, an echoing gunshot went off behind her eyes.  She had made her choice. She stumbled, exhausted, back through the milling people and through the wide dirt encrusted glass door.  She took her place and waited for the moment when all of her ponderings would come to fruition.  Nicole stabbed at a dusty dime with the heel of her shoe.  Time drifted away, her palms began to sweat.  She wiped her hands on the dark denim of her skirt and moved forward.  She opened her mouth to speak, stopped.  She tried again, her voice resonating- dry and cracked.

"Give me, uhh, a pastrami on white bread, spicy mustard and extra pickles." Nicole croaked out. "NO! Wait, uhh, make that pastrami on rye."
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1