The Vagabond Girl of Nothingtown

Prologue

             What makes a person extraordinary? Does it mean living life in the most extreme way? Does it mean achieving a high honor of excellence? Perhaps it means being the fastest person alive, or the richest, or the best at making ice sculptures. It is a question humans have pondered for thousands of years in order to escape the dreaded reality that most inevitably accept, that they are, in the end, simply ordinary. The reality one must accept that they are no different than the 7 billion people that live in the world or one of 100 billion who have ever lived. That if they were gone tomorrow, only a few close friends and family members would even notice they were gone if they are lucky enough to have them. And even for the few that happened to achieve excellence, the fact still remains that the earth is a rather unremarkable planet being just one planet in a solar system of 9 planets circling around 1 of the billions of stars in the universe.

Perhaps you're one of the lucky ones that did achieve excellence in your life, or are on the path to achieving it. Everyone needs a goal to strive for after all. Perhaps you can say proudly that you are the best cake maker in the entire world, or the best at chess, or the best at a certain video game. Or perhaps you're like me, just one of the 7 billion humans on planet Earth who live a not so extraordinary life and face the reality of knowing you will be nothing more than ordinary.

Still, even the most ordinary of people, in the most ordinary of towns, in the most ordinary of countries, have something they can share that does make them in a way, extraordinary. That of course, is each person's individual story. The reason one is the way they are, and why they are in the situation they are in. Everyone's story is unique after all, but nonetheless that does not necessarily make every part of one's story interesting. Most of our days are filled with mundane work and tasks after all. And if I were to share the majority of my life story it would not at all be very interesting and I am sure you would close this novel before the real story even began.

Instead let us skip ahead in the interesting part of this story. Skip to one calm summer day in July, in a city we will simply call in this story, Nothingtown, a town that shall not be named for both privacy reasons, and because "Nothingtown" is an appropriate descriptor for the town. It's just some town in the suburbs of some larger city in the United States that had buildings and people as ordinary as I was.

"You'll have the story done by next week then Kane?"

"It may take longer than that Mr. Tusin. I'm still experiencing...

"Sigh..."

On the other side of the smartphone line I could hear Mr. Tusin's, my agent's, audible groans.

"It's writers' block every week with you isn't it?"

"Well yes, I'm just in a bit of a slump right now so if you'll just give me a little time to get inspired..."

"You've had a full month to get inspired Kane."

"Well yes, writing is a delicate process that requires..."

"I don't want to hear it Kane, I've had enough of your excuses. Get an outline done by next week or I'm terminating your contract. Do you understand?"

"Yes however..."

"Do you understand?"

A cold sweat dripped down my neck at Mr. Tusin's words. For a moment it was silent. I was alone at my local park bench.

"Do you understand Kane?" Mr. Tusin repeated.

"Yes... have an outline by next week, got it."