My Morning Jog – 21003.01
By Lieutenant Fairen
The dew on the grass glistens from the early day sun, peering through the wispy clouds and trees as I jog by. The Appalachian air, feeling unseasonable warm, is filled with hanging moisture that coats my lungs with each breath. My wife loved these kinds of mornings.
It had only been four years since the Borg attack… four years since she became one of the numbered dead aboard the doomed Starbase 1. A quiet and kind Ensign Engineer who happened to be in the middle of her tour of duty when fate dealt the fatal hand. I don’t know how she died but I like to think…hope… that she was thinking of me in her last moment in this life.
My usual route I like to take has me passing through the small town of which I live on the edge of in my small apartment. As I jog, the slapping sounds of my shoes on the asphalt are drowned out by the blaring music coming from a truck speeding up behind me. I don’t think much of it but as I hear it getting louder, I can’t help but look back. Normally people just drive around me, that wasn’t the case today as I had to quickly jump to the side just to avoid ending up like the splattered remains of a road-kill raccoon.
“ASSHOLE,” I scream out to him with my middle finger raised high in the air but he keeps driving on into town. With a shake of my head and grumble from my throat, I step back on to the road to continue on my way.
This time of morning, most people are out and about, trying to wake up and get to work for the long day ahead of them. Right now though, my stomach is thinking more about getting breakfast. Since I was running behind though, I’d have to make it a quick meal. Stopping at the local fruit stand, I reached for a banana but they don’t look that fresh so I pick up an orange instead. I fidget with the fruit as I press my thumb to the scanner but it doesn’t seem to work.
“The bananas are looking a bit over ripe Mr. Welsbery.”
He says nothing even as he stares at me. I press my thumb to the scanner again… it still isn’t working.
After a minute of just standing there, waiting for him to address the problem, I need to hurry on my way. “You know my credits are good so I’ll just be back to pay later,” I say as he still stands there.
I head over to the nearby trash can as I peel the skin off the orange, its juices running down my fingers. It’s sweet and slightly tangy but my stomach is thankful.
There’s a sudden stamping sound of tiny feet as a little boy darts past beside me, out into the road. His mother screams out for him. He keeps running though. He doesn’t notice the hover-car gliding down the street.
I freeze up as the oranges hit the concrete sidewalk with a thud that can’t be heard over the screaming from the mother. No one watching can react in time. Running out to the stopped car, the boy is found standing there, only inches from death.
I step over to the hover-car and ask, “Are you okay?” to the driver but he just sits there staring ahead scared for a moment before reaching for his door handle. I step back to let him out but he ignores me as goes to talk with the mother. Something in my gut doesn’t feel right so I decided to just head on back home to get ready for work.
Unlocking the door, I enter my apartment only to find there are some messages waiting for me. I push the button on the console, “Hey man, where are you? The boss is getting pissed…” The message continues on but I don’t hear it as I hear running water coming from my bathroom.
I reach behind the front door and take hold of my baseball bat. Slowly, I creep down the hallway, the bat raised for an attack. With a quick jump into the door way, I stop. The bat hits the floor.
On the floor by the tub lies a photo of my wife in a pool of water. There’s a man in the over flowing tub… the red water staining his pale skin. His wrists cut up to the middle of his arms. The eyes are clouded white as he stares up at the ceiling, while his mouth slightly opened as to have said something. This man has been dead for more than a day.
My eyes widen as I realize this man is me.
