like a pomegranate | george harrison

1 - Of The Beginning

"...something in the way she moves,
attracts me like a pomegranate..."
- George Harrison
~~~

2027 was the most difficult year in Cloud's life. Only a few months had gone by since her dad passed. As if the experience of watching him go wasn't difficult enough, the reality of losing her best friend and only source of financial support was settling in.

Sure, there were insurance checks, and there was the scholarship keeping her enrolled at her outrageously expensive New England university. The money left over was only barely enough to buy groceries.

Cloud knew she couldn't sustain herself like this. Her face looked more lean than ever in the mirror, and her jeans now hung loose on her hips.

Desperate for a bit of extra money, Cloud discovered participating in surveys.

First, she tested a product that could tan her skin instantly without any smell or wait time. Then there was a pair of shoes with strange heels that she had to wear for a week straight and report on how her feet felt at the trial's end. These gigs were good for a hundred dollars or so.

A month went by. Then three. The more surveys she did, the more prestigious studies she qualified for.

Every time she would sign a form and be sworn to secrecy about what she had tested. As the experiments became more complex, so did the paychecks.

~~~
April 5th, 2027

After finishing a clinical trial of a supplement that made her hair grow two inches overnight, Cloud was scheduled for an interview to qualify for a new study. When the day arrived, clouds rolled in, pelting rain.

After a long wait she was seated in a small room. There was a desk fit for two people to face one another, but the room was empty.

With her hair and clothes dripping onto the vinyl cushion, she took in her surroundings. The wood-paneled room had been decorated with plants of all sizes; some hung from the ceiling, while one sat on the desk in front of her.

A framed picture of Aretha Franklin smiled at her from the wall. As minutes passed waiting in silence, she felt nerves bubbling in her stomach.

Then, the door opened behind her.

"Hello there!" A man's deep voice boomed through the room. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting like this. They just told me you were here."

He slowly settled into his seat—he was young, with elegant hands, tortoiseshell frames. Deep brown skin, weathered with crows feet.

"No worries. Actually, I was using the time to meditate," Cloud replied sarcastically. The man's eyes grew wide.

"Were you really?" He asked.

"No," Cloud said. "But I was trying to." The man slapped the desk and let out a deep laugh. If there was one thing she had learned from her father, it was a sense of humor.

"I'm Dr. Havott, but call me Buddy if you feel comfortable." He shook her hand across the table with a tight grip. "Can I ask your full name?"

"Cloud Harford," she replied.

"Cloud! Very unique. Harford..." Dr. Havott repeated. "You aren't by any chance related to Joan Harford? I'm a huge fan of her books."