5.6 - The Future

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Dear Readers: Let's find out what Cloe wrote down on the napkin last night - and whether it comes true...

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Scene 6: The Future

A.D. 2015

She had hoped to wake up. To snap out of the waking dream that her life had become of late. To finally return to comprehensible reality.

Some part of her, at least, had hoped for that. She wasn’t sure if she could go on living in this dream, without risking combusting any second. It was so disorienting—whimsical scribbles seeming to come true, dinner with an epic prince straight from the pages of her storybook, encounters with the man of marble who was… who was…

Who was married. Cloe stared up at the ceiling, which was uncomfortably close to her face, from her upper bunk in this cramped hostel space. There was just enough room for her to sit upright without bumping her head; she was glad to be petite enough for that. Unlike the marble man’s tall, model-like, Barbie-doll wife… She cursed the bitter thought for springing to her mind. She shouldn’t think like that. And she most certainly shouldn’t have been having fantasies about Barbie’s husband flashing through her sleeping head last night.

Well. So she had. And there was nothing to be done about it, other than to try her hardest to forget. At least until the fantasies recurred on nights to come, no doubt. She wouldn’t be able to help it, she supposed.

At any rate, this was her first morning in Athens. Her first full day in Greece. It should be easier to focus on her travel-writing job now that she knew that Mr. Campion was married, and that the ebon-eyed prince had abandoned her after some sorry excuse for a date.

She grabbed her phone, bleary eyes blinking at the unexpected flurry of new messages. She first opened the text from her dad: “Hi sweetie. Just activated international plan. Sorry forgot to do it sooner. You should be able to call and text now. Have a great time in Greece.”

Cloe smiled and replied with a thank-you text. She hadn’t even realized that the global phone plan hadn’t been in place yesterday. She had asked her father to please set it up as promptly as he could, in time for her travels, but John Turner was often slightly delayed with such things. He always got around to them, though, soon enough.

 She then saw the texts from her mom, sent over the span of several hours, checking in and asking whether she’d arrived safely, punctuated with some frantic strings of question marks. Cloe felt awful for having forgotten to touch base with Silvia yesterday as promised—she was usually so good about that, but last night must have been so overwhelming that the ever-dutiful daughter inside her had gotten distracted. Even though her phone hadn’t been functional and it wouldn’t have transmitted anyway, she ought to have tried.

She felt truly terrible about it, and instantly responded with effusive apologies and reassurances of her safety. She also suggested that they video-chat on Skype in half an hour, as soon as Cloe was washed up and ready to sit at her computer in the courtyard. It would be nice to see her mother’s smiling face—both because she missed her already, and because Silvia’s calm, steady smile was always good at keeping Cloe mentally stable. She sort of needed that right now.

She saw a text from Tom, wishing her a happy first day in Greece.

And then she saw the text from an unrecognized number. Sent at some point late last night, though her phone of course hadn’t been enabled to receive it till more recently. She blinked a few times before reading it.

“Cloe– I had to rush out to respond to an urgent call, and I am so sorry. I hope you got home safely? I would love to hear from you, to know that you did, and also for a chance to explain why I had to leave. Of course, I understand if you would rather not reply. But please do know that I had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you. –Eldor.”

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