+TYPED OUT-

+THE TALK-

Kenneth climbed the steps and went to the center stage. He didn't need any notes or preparation. He had done it so many times; it seemed like second nature. Confidence, some acquired it through stringent coaching sessions while it oozed out of Kenneth like mana. The man was a born speaker.

"Eh, hmm, ㅡI don't remember what I have to say," Kenneth scratched the back of his head, "I bet a lot of you are thinking, he can't be serious."

The man began to pace, "well, I am," he shrugged, "I don't know what to tell you. And according to many, I should not only have a speech ready, but I must be aware of other thingsㅡyou all sat down, hoping I would have something smart, some advice, something you can take home and practice. You came looking and expecting answers from me," at this point, Kenneth was back in the middle of the stage.

"May I ask you, why? I mean, who am I?" Kenneth said and pointed his hands at himself, "who died and made me someone you would seek for inspiration? It sounds pretentious. I wouldn't listen to a guy wearing pine green pants, a blue jean shirt, and sneakers. Clothes say a lot about people right, in this day and age.

Then why? I mean, I have the answers to my questions and issues. They are mine; they help me grow. How are they supposed to help you? Let's do something different today, instead of listening to me, start by listening to yourself," Kenneth smiled and wagged a finger in the air, "but Kenneth, it's easy for you to say, I don't know myself." The man clapped his hands together, "well, it's time to meet yourself."

In Hall A, Monday left her seat and stepped out of her corner. She looked up and down the empty aisles. The exhibits, too, were stripped from traffic, "gosh, is it lunchtime. Where are all the people?"

Ben smiled, "it's Kenneth time. I'm going over to the auditorium to see what he has to say."

Monday lowered her gaze, "you're telling me the fair is almost empty because everyone is listening to him?"

Ben nodded, "look around you. Even Tim eclipsed himself when he saw Kenneth leave."

"Why didn't you go?"

The man sighed, "tell me, who was afraid to be kidnapped by a fan? I stayed to assure your security."

"Go on then, go see your Kenneth," Monday hissed and sneered.

"Don't you want to come? He's very inspiring. He talks about self-care. You know he's one of the rare people who doesn't go on about helping others first. His books focusing on self-love helped me a lot. My parents brought me up to think about the collective first, but in Kenneth's logic, one can't help the collective when they're not in a good place mentally."

"Your Kenneth sounds like a guru. Everyone is playing their own God nowadays instead of believing things will work out."

"You see, you prefer fantasy to logic. Things don't always work out by themselves, Monday. I'm sure if you read his books, you'd be the next Helen Fielding."

Monday tilted her head from side to side and mimicked nagging.

"Come, there's nothing else to do," Ben insisted.

"What if someone steals a book or if they want an autograph and I'm not there."

Ben rolled his eyes, "Monday, it's a book fair. There's more chance of having someone downloading a PDF of your book or reading a malware version on a mirror website than having it stolen here. Anyway, suit yourself," with these words, he left.

Monday waited; she took out her phone and looked at the fair's program. Kenneth had one other mini-conference scheduled that day. The first was about meeting oneself. Monday posed her phone, tapped her fingers on the table, opened her book, flicked through the pages, looked at her phone again.

"Damn."

Only five minutes had passed.

She got up, slung on her bag, and headed to the auditorium, which was just a space within the hall A setup for the various conferences and talks of the fair.

Monday arrived as Kenneth explained the analysis of the evolution of an individual.

"How many yous," he lifted his hands and mimicked quotation marks, "do you think there are? People love to say there was the child, the teen, the adult, and the senior. Others go by roles, friend, husband, and father. I say there was you, five minutes ago, three minutes ago, and there's you at this precise instant," Kenneth said while he pointed down the center aisle at someone.

Monday stood at the back, and in the middle of the aisle, one could almost think he spoke to her. And so Monday took two side steps to the side aisle to avoid the psychological endeavor of feeling targeted.

Those close to the stage noticed the minor quirk which appeared on Kenneths' lips as he watched the black woman in the light rinsed Jean jacket and long black asymmetrical skirt slide away from the center aisle.

"It's you in the present that matters because tomorrow is now."