Fiction if stories

ari_mccheese I like cheese, writing, and taking naps.
Autoplay OFF   •   3 years ago
In another life, maybe.


Today someone told me that I looked like I belonged in a TV show where people in long trenchcoats dashed across the streets of the city in order to fight crime.

And I smiled for a moment.

That moment was precious- vastly, insurmountablly short.

In that moment, I indulged myself.

I was a hero.

I saved the lives of ordinary people, caught the serial killer, and won over the front page of newspapers as a real life Sherlock Holmes.

Under street lights, blank skies, and muffled cars

was the sound of flipping papers, murmurs of voices, an ongoing chase to save the life of a child.

I was respected for my skills, I saved the government from a bombing, I stopped what would've been another 9/11.

For once, I belonged somewhere.

I was able to do things.

I was able to help someone other than myself.

There was nowhere else to long for.

I had my own story, a reason to live another day, a future I knew I could look forward to.

My life was put together in it's own insane, impossible way, but it was together.

There were no existential crises, no questioning if I was really doing the right thing.

Nothing, but following the path laid out for me from the script of fate produced by the earth.

And I was happy.

But all things must come to an end.

And then I saw myself again.

Stories We Think You'll Love 💕

Get The App

App Store