Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
I’m grinning at my brothers when the electricity flickers for a moment. Aaron’s brows pinch and I get the uneasy feeling in my gut again. The pastries sour in my stomach, threatening a reappearance.
“I’m sure there’s an opening at Tabby’s daycare,” I tease rather than address the worry niggling at me. “I have deliveries in that building all the time. You could ride on the handlebars like when we were little.”
Jesse scoffs. “Screw that. I’d rather hang with loud-ass Wayne any day of the week over Tabby.”
“She’s not that bad,” Aaron says in exasperation.
“She’s not that good either,” me and Jesse say at the same time.
We all crack up with laughter. Even with Jesse’s knack for getting in trouble, my inability to find something decent to do with my life, or Aaron’s magnetism to whiny chicks, I wouldn’t trade a thing. My brothers are my whole world, even if they’re annoying as hell.
“If you do get any deliveries near Tabby today, bring her an iced coffee from that trendy shop she likes so much as a peace offering from me. I’ll owe you one,” Aaron says. “I don’t ask for much, Ty. This will get her off my back for a while.”
As much as I dislike that woman, I’ll do anything for my brother. He’s right. He never asks for anything. All he cares about is us being together, happy, with Pop-Tarts in our bellies and a roof over our heads. I can do him a solid, even if that means being his errand boy.
My phone dings with a food pickup, signaling lunchtime is rapidly approaching. The unsettled feeling prickling in my chest subsides as I anticipate the workday ahead of me. It may not be the best job in the world, but I have my entire life to figure out what I want to do.
There’s always tomorrow.
It’s not like the world’s going to end before then.
I scoop up my backpack that goes everywhere with me—old foster home habits die hard—and give Aaron a mock salute. “Your wish is my command, Captain. I’ll expect more cherry Pop-Tarts in exchange for my meeting with the redheaded daycare devil.”
“You’ll get your cherry Pop-Tarts, brat. Now get out of here before I decide to drag you to sea with us.”
Hard pass.
On that note, I grab my bike that’s propped up by the front door, and wave at my brothers. “You two kids have fun today.”
“I’ll bring dinner later,” Aaron calls after me. “See you tonight.”
“Bye, loser!” Jesse yells.
I laugh and then set out on my bike, eager for the exercise and hopefully some good tips. One day, I’ll figure out a job that pays well so Aaron doesn’t have to work as hard. Hell, maybe I’ll even look into taking some college courses or something.
Tomorrow.
There’s always tomorrow.
Kellen
Voices can be heard down the hallway, pulling me from my work. Time has passed by quickly in a blur as I cleaned out my inbox and it’s nearly noon. Between emails, I’d managed to place my food order, but it still hasn’t arrived thirty minutes later despite a fifteen-minute promised window.
I should have had Frannie grab me something from the fish place.
Thunder rumbles in the distance and I’m secretly pleased I wasn’t imagining storm clouds earlier. Sure enough, as I turn to face the windows, the sky has darkened over the bay, clouds churning in an ominous way.
Great. My sandwich is not only going to be cold but wet, too.
I attempt to cancel my order, but it shows the delivery is in progress. I’m about to contact customer service when my phone beeps with a local weather alert.
Severe weather expected by 1PM. Thunderstorms with lightning and moderate winds. Wind advisory is in effect until 7PM with gusts ranging from 35-39 mph. Stay safe, San Francisco!
As if to punctuate the alert, wind whistles outside my windows. This isn’t the first storm to roll through the bay area and it certainly won’t be the last. So why can’t I shake this strange, unsettled feeling? I’m no longer convinced it’s the coffee.
Abandoning my perch at the windows, I turn my television back on. It’s no longer the morning show or the daily soaps that typically come on at this time. They’ve interrupted with real news people reporting live from Seattle.
“As you can see by the poor lighting here at the station, we are without power after that significant earthquake and are relying on our generators to bring you the news. At this time, we’re unsure of the extent of the damages. There are calls coming in from all over about the Space Needle that has reportedly collapsed. Of course we’ll be on this story as it unfolds.”
I pull my phone from my suit jacket and search the internet for “Space Needle Collapse.” Several videos are already posted. Clicking on one of them, I watch as someone walking nearby films the ground shaking and commenting on the earthquake but then begins screaming. The camera bounces all around as they yell, “It’s going to fall! Holy shit, it’s going to fall!” He swoops the view up to the Space Needle. Sure enough, a deafening sound can be heard as it begins to crumple as if made of Legos.