Novel

For every day starting today and through June, I will be writing (and posting) chronological excerpts for a novel project:

There is in the course of human events a necessity to be right in each occasion; this is a record of those occasions as played out in a person’s life. I was driving a BMW along the separating walk between the Walmart on my right and the parking spaces on my left. This BMW was a present from my parents; I had recently graduated from an Ivy-League university with a Bachelor of Arts in English. I felt arrogant and content; I thought I needed nothing else to be happy. Its color was a golden-yellow although perhaps better characterized by the word “goldenrod.” As I am writing this a Miami Heat basketball player has just nailed a three-pointer and a Boston Celtics players has hit a two-point jumper and somehow Lebron James is shooting a free-throw. But yes, the color of the car was a yellow kind of like the yellow of the squeaky basketball court which is also carrying my attention as well as the blank white pixelated screen of my Macbook Air. This car was humming along and I saw an encampment of poor people holding cardboard signs; these in my time were called “homeless” people. Thanks to the Alien-Homeless Removal Act of 2066, there are no homeless anymore. The police pick up any one suspected of homelessness and escort them to a processing center where they are given clothes, food that is vegan and free of hormones, and a temporary bureaucratic job. But yes and I am sorry for revisiting this car scene over and over, but it needs to be done because we are in a sorry state indeed. But more shall be explained later so that the previous statement may be clearly explicated to you, the reader. What was done: I gave the homeless people six bucks. What did not happen: they did not become un-homeless. And this made me sad. This made me angry. So I changed things. I became the world’s first multi-trillionaire, and created the processing centers I mentioned above.