A paper airplane

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With tired eyes, I tried to read the numbers on the clock. Saturday, the eighth of August, five past ten. It was morning already? Sunlight shone through the open curtains and through the open window; I could hear the traffic from outside. It wasn't as loud as it was normally. People had started their days already. It made the streets empty of cars and a place for the neighborhood children to play around. High-pitched laughs and screeches instead of adult chatter. Even though it was louder and each sudden yell made me flinch, I preferred it over the adult chatter. It was warmer or something.

It was the first time in weeks that I had slept in on a Saturday. A Saturday...
I gasped when the realization hit me. I had missed them. Normally I would've been awake for over four hours, I missed them doing their morning round. I threw the sheets off of my legs and with quick steps rushed over to the windowsill. Though I stopped in my tracks when I heard the sound of crumbling paper underneath my feet. Taking a step back I looked down to the floor.

"A paper airplane?"

On the floor laid a red paper airplane, crumbled due to the fact I had stepped on it. The folds seemed to have been rushed. They were uneven, resulting in one wing being larger than the other. The nose was crooked from when it had hit the floor, or other surfaces, for that matter. I didn't fold paper airplanes. Not ones that looked as neat as these. Those types that could fly further than the regular ones.

Picking it up from the ground, I continued to walk over to the windowsill. The sun had risen further, the rays of light not shining directly inside anymore. It made looking out of the window easier.

"Would someone have thrown it through the window?" I questioned while glancing outside. It was then that I noticed two other paper planes laying in the gutter. Same red paper, same model. Reaching outside my arms easily took hold of them and brought them inside. Placing them on the desk I saw that they were all covered in a small layer of dirt. Someone had dropped them quite a lot of times before they had ended up where they did. Turning them around, I found out that all of them read 'UNFOLD ME' written in a neat writing, not exactly cursive letters, but neat nonetheless.

Taking a seat at my desk, my fingers were quick to undo all the folds of each of them. Straightening the wrinkles, I put them all in a line in front of me.

Each had a message written inside. Same handwriting, same message in ever paper plane, only differing with a few small details each time. The most recognizable were the numbers that seemed to go up with each paper plane. They were all also sent by the same person.

I turned my head to look out of the window once more, the tiny slither of a smile in the corners of my lips. I hadn't missed them.

The Person From The FutureOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora