The End of the Road: The First Marker

Aleksander Mayorga

  As Sasha sat down to write the introductory statement for his column, a chilling breeze blew through the room. He turned around, expecting to see someone, and was rewarded only with disappointment. He wasn’t used to getting to The Wave this early and wanted to bounce ideas off someone for The End of The Road. He could’ve sworn that he heard footsteps when he felt the breeze but it must have been his imagination. Suddenly, he felt cold, and goosebumps broke out over his arms. He realized that the air conditioner had turned on and put on his jacket. It struck him as odd because he hadn’t remembered there being an air conditioner. Maybe I never noticed because it had never been used, he thought. The cup that was on the table next to him shifted slightly as if someone’s phone had gone off next to it. He didn’t see it. He continued sitting there idly, waiting for someone to come in. The cup moved once more, but once again, he didn’t notice. But he did feel something. Something wasn’t right. He couldn’t place exactly what it was, but something was definitely off.