Twist

Twists of fate are so cliché that I don't bother with them, content to let my destiny meander and graze, not wandering too far, at any pace it chooses. I thought that was the way it worked, until today. Sometimes destiny doesn't want to stay walking in the same direction along the meadow. Sometimes it wants to jump off a cliff and break into a million unrepairable, irreversible pieces, like the glass of a tear. Sometimes it wants to shoot itself with its own bullets, use the materials of my life against itself until it lies, inanimate, and too far away to lead me in the right direction. Sometimes it wants to jump in front of a train, and be smooshed into the ground, ground into the soil, soiled beyond cleansing.

Other times, like today, it wants to simply board the train and race off at a million miles an hour towards your destination. Enter X, the initial I'll be using for the person waiting for me on the platform so far away. The one I'll get to faster than I thought.