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The Perfect Wrong Day

Mr. Michael Johnson

By Logan SteelePublished 2 years ago 5 min read
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The Perfect Wrong Day
Photo by Nathan Walker on Unsplash

I had thought that everything would be perfect, but I’ve never been any more wrong in life. What was supposed to be one of the best days of my life, just became the worst.

So instead of having a huge smile on my face and dancing around a gorgeous ballroom with the love of my life, I’m sitting on this curb with running makeup dripping down my face. How could something that was so perfectly planned go so horrendously. I don’t even know what to do with myself right now or where to start. I’m devastated.

Or so I thought…

A stranger approached that I knew I had only seen in my dreams before had approached me and I became stiff...frozen in shock. There’s no way that a figment of my imagination is physically standing right in front of me in an attempt to console me after such a shitty day.

I slyly pinch myself to see if I’m dreaming without him noticing and thinking I’m some lunatic. Indeed, this was no dream. This stranger asks me if I’m okay and I have no energy on reserve to try to wave him off, so I told him everything. I’m sitting on a curb in ruined makeup telling a complete stranger about every flaw in my life. However, he soon realized that he had to go and left me on the curb, but not before handing me a hundo. “Whatever asshole broke your heart, clearly doesn’t know what he’s lost...but hey, who doesn’t like money right?”

I chuckle lightly and me and the stranger part ways, but before I can let him get too far, I call for him again. I don’t even know his man’s name. “It’s not necessary, I hope your day gets a whole lot better sometime soon.” And as he turns on his heels and disappears into the crowd of pedestrians, I can’t help but think to myself that it already has.

I lifted myself from the curb and began a journey of my own. I found myself at a street market on the opposite side of the island full of eccentric and eclectic individuals selling either their products or themselves. It was a strange, yet beautiful sight to see. I was approached by a woman who was doing low priced psychic readings in exchange for a voucher for a deeper reading on a second visit and a coffee shop gift card.

She approached me and started speaking all kinds of nonsense about high energy radiating from me and how I could really benefit from her services. I politely declined and informed her that there’s nothing she could tell me that would be of any interest. Compared to what I thought my future would be, why would I want a glimpse at the actuality of my future? If it’s going to be anything like today, I think I’d pass. However, I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t curious to know if things at least got better…

So I said fuck it and used my new crispy hundo to pay for her service. Afterall, it wasn’t really my money anyways, and I had nothing to lose. After a series of questions she fed me a bunch of bullshit about love and how it gets better. The man I’m wearing a dress for isn’t the love of my life but apparently it’s some guy named Michael. I chalked it up to being that this lady is bullshit. She obviously capitalized off of the fact that I’m wearing a now tattered wedding dress and running mascara. After we wrapped up, I told her that I’d pass on the free second service and that I’ll be fine with just the coffee card. She handed me both and insisted that I’d be back soon. I just shoved everything in my silver, sparkly clutch and got the hell out of there as soon as I could. I had enough.

I decided to head to the airport to see if they had any flights headed back to the states. No way was I staying here after the day I’ve had. I never would’ve agreed to a travel wedding if I knew that this is how things would play out. I discovered that the soonest flight to the states was leaving in 5 hours so I sat in my terminal and decided to wait. While waiting, I must have dozed off because for some reason I was being frantically shaken at my shoulders by a stranger. Someone I’d seen before on the island and was very familiar was telling me that I was getting ready to miss the flight and needed to hurry to the boarding desk.

Upon successful boarding, I found my seat and prepared myself to face the family that I left back home. However I choose to break the news to them won’t be easy but fuck it. It’s my life that was ruined, not theirs. They’re going to pass judgment and make me feel shittier than I already do. I don’t even think it’s possible but I know that they’ll manage to find a way. They always do.

Just as I was taking in the airport employees doing airport duties from my window seat, a stranger plopped down in the aisle seat next to me, hard enough to make both seats shake. It instantly made us make eye contact, and once again I was faced with the man from my dreams. He was saying things to me but I wasn’t even listening. I was staring at the name on the boarding pass in pure shock.

His name was Michael...Michael Johnson.

Young Adult
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About the Creator

Logan Steele

Just a young aspiring writer from with a passion for short stories, poetry, and bildungsromans : )

IG: @thelogansteele

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