Maps, Treasure, and Adrift Boats at Sea
Edward liked the rain, and by that I mean he relished it. The only time he felt understood was when the rain beat the window pane, or when it fell from the sky like shards of glass. It was no surprise that the clouds loomed ominously on the November morning, when Edward left the dingy apartment in which he inhabited. Nothing really felt like home to him anymore, not since his parents had died in a fire that burnt his so called “home” to the ground. To him, everything was a house now. He was removed. Edward no longer put himself out on the line, there was no more heart left in him, no more soul. His posture was too perfect, his face too stony. Any emotions he felt were locked inside of his dead heart with a key rusted by the rain he loved. He never cried, not anymore. However, Edward continued on shielding his fragile body from the harshness of reality, and with fidgeting fingers he proceeded to work at his same boring job, with the same boring people, in the same boring building where he was still boring away life. In a grey trench coat and a matching umbrella he paced the street and with open arms he accepted the way he meaningless life fell into place, like the rain drops fell into his palms. The day was no different, and as he choked on other people’s joy, he could recall the feeling of dysfunction, as though his mind had gone astray. He was calm waters, with no emotional depth, for his feelings had been forgotten along with his appearance. You could smell him from a foot away, and his unkempt hair was shabby. His soul had been flattened as though a rickety cart had run it down to the mere roots. Though there was no sign of a physical injury his heart ached for a purpose; but he could not find one. Blindly he had stumbled through the last three months without a sense of direction or map, he seemed to radiate an aura of absence with eyes drooping slightly. There was no where to go, and Edward was nowhere to be found. His tattered black tie waged war with his off white shirt and grey pants; as though he could not sink any lower. He was adrift in the ocean of confusion, and there was no wind to propel him in any meaningful direction. This of course was before he stepped into the elevator at 5:03 pm and saw Adeline Specter. When his average brown eyes, met her exquisite blue, he knew she was what he had been missing. She was the North Star, destined to guide him among the dark sky of normality. Edward had a map, and now he had spotted the treasure, she was what he needed. Maybe now, he wouldn’t be adrift at sea, maybe now he wouldn’t be so lost.