Black umbrella

Jason was having a rough time. Between tremendous past trauma and more current woes, he was struggling to stay afloat.  Day to day life had become a burden to endure; spending all his effort trying to keep his mind free from rumination has hindered his motivations to retain his grip on societal obligations.

Work slowed to a halt, unread messages stacked up, and he would choose a long walk out in the rain over a visit from a friend.

And one day, one of those long walks led him to a lost umbrella. Not the most uncanny of things to find out in the rain, but still slightly peculiar as there wasn't a justifiable about of wind to cause someone to lose something they obviously had the intention of benefitting from.

Usually, Jason would enjoy the vaguely masochistic habit of taking these walks without a raincoat or even hood, let alone an umbrella. But in his self-reflection, he took it as a sign the universe was giving him a break.

He walked over to the umbrella and picked it up. It was heavier than expected; oddly unbalanced.

But regardless, he opened it and concluded that walk with the peaceful sound of the raindrops striking this small cosmic omen of positivity.

When he arrived home, he went to close the umbrella and saw there was something attached to the inside—a small black notebook, neatly bound to the rafters of the umbrella.

He took it out and went to sit down in his living room to read it.

It was filled with undeniably philosophical entries.

It spoke of all things from how life should be cherished to how one should never lose their motivation to achieve solace as the future is blinding, and the turning point could hit at any moment.

It was uplifting and only reinforced his superstition that there was more to life than approached the eye.

For the next few days, he'd read these excerpts religiously. But also careful not to burn through it too quickly and really trying to pontificate on how this applies to his life.

In trying to avoid binging this new pseudo-Bible of his, he ended up getting back into a routine; work was going well, he was exercising and eating regularly, all in ode to making this little book last while not betraying the spirit of it by falling into unhealthy habits.

As the stack of pages under his left thumb grew thicker, and the feeling of things coming to an end loomed over his head.

He finally reached the epilogue.  He was surprised as the tone had changed. The first words spoke of how holding on to temporary emotions is futile. Time was limited, and you're never truly in the moment if each day is spent behind rose-tinted glasses or obscured by daydreaming too far into the future.

While it maintained a seemingly positive feeling, it was nuanced by vaguely inauspicious senescence. But it still spoke to him on a deeply personal level, reminding him of where he was before this book

And then, he turned to a page that was emptier than usual. He thought surely this wasn't at the end of the book; this can't be the author's final words to him; there were too many pages left for someone who clearly had no issue filling them to stop short and give up.

The page he was on noted a location. And a date. A storage locker in a nearby subway, two weeks from now. And a message " I hope you have truly appreciated my work and that it has impacted your life how I intended, in spirit of this I am now going to leave to you the inheritance that I have no one else to bestow upon."

Jason was ecstatic. Not only had this book changed his life just in reading it, but the author was going to grant him the sole beneficiary of their life savings? How much could it be? Was the first question to mind, surely it must be a lot for someone to go through all this effort just to choose a beneficiary.

In anticipation of this event, Jason couldn't settle his mind. All he could think of was how much and what he was going to do with it.

He put the book down and made tea. He couldn't sleep that night and was tired at work the next day.  And further spent that day idle minded, fixating on this windfall

The following days leading up to this date were much the same.

And when the day came, he put on some smart clothes, cleaned up as best he could. Was he going to meet the author? Would they become friends and share life stories while the author imparts more wisdom unto him?

The drive to the subway station was surreal for Jason, like that feeling you get on the way to catch a flight for a much-needed vacation. When he arrived he checked the locker and in it was a large bag it was heavy. But not heavy enough that he'd expect a lottery worth in cash to reside inside nor large enough for that.

Too anxious to open it on the spot, he took it out and waited, standing. Unsure what to expect.

He waited for what seemed like hours. Watching the people pass by, wondering if one of them could be the author.

Until finally, he gave up on the idea they'd be waiting for him too. So he went home. The drive back was nerve-racking, yet it was the most excited he'd felt in a long time, maybe even all his life.

The radio blaring his favourite playlists hand out the window feeling the air pass. Even the sun seemed warmer than it was earlier, the sky bluer, the clouds softer.

When he reached home, he opened the door with a shaky hand. Without even wondering if he'd locked his car, he walked straight to the dining table to look inside the bag. He unzipped it slowly; this was when he saw paper-like sheets inside through the small gap he had created. He couldn't tell whether time felt slowed or he was subconsciously opening it slowly to make it more climatic. A familiar pastel hue greeted his eye. His mind went blank. It was

monopoly money; the bag was stuffed to the brim with $20000 monopoly money.

He grabbed the little black book off his nightstand and violently

flicked past all the pages till he reached the one with the instructions turned one more to find a single quote

" I hope this journey has gifted you more than money can buy "

Sincerely Taylor Smith- Willowbrook psychiatric hospital

Jason clapped the book shut and slapped it back on the nightstand. He hunched over to sit on his bed and paused. Filled

with an overwhelming melancholy, he took a deep breath and then laughed.